Harry Potter and the Dark Passenger
by puiwaihin
Summary: When he witnessed the murder of his parents, the darkness got in him. Dumbledore took him in, taught him the best he could, and when it was clear the darkness was in too early, Albus taught Harry how to hide it, and how to get away with killing. AU based heavily on Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay. Update: New sections in chapter 5.
1. Chapter 1: A Fitting Punishment

**Copyright and Intellectual Property Issues: **This is an original work of fanfiction, however the characters and many concepts and ideas in this work are based on characters owned by other authors. Harry Potter and all characters in this story as well as the settings used in this story are based on the works of J.K. Rowlings in her Harry Potter books and are her intellectual property. The story concept is based upon the book _Darkly Dreaming Dexter_ by Jeff Lindsay.

**Harry Potter and the Dark Passenger**

**Chapter 1: A Fitting Punishment**

Tonight was the night. It would happen again.

I slipped out of my bed and carefully tiptoed on the softly carpeted floor over to my large, ironbound wooden trunk. The sonorous sounds of Ron Weasley snoring were comforting, covering what slight disturbances the click of the trunk opening made. I placed my hand over my belongings and silently intoned within my mind _wingardium leviosa_, willing my belongings to rise up and carefully settling them on the floor beside my trunk.

Carefully, I lifted out the false bottom of the trunk and removed my tools. Being seen dressed as a Gryffindor outside of Hogwarts while school was in session would draw attention to the exact place I did not want it. Thus I pulled out a simple, non-descript earth-tone robe. If I was seen in this nobody would connect me with my school. Of course, it was unlikely that would happen, since the very next tool I pulled from the trunk was the perfect invisibility cloak I had inherited from my father. According to legend, it was the cloak of Death.

The thought of my father instantly brought up the duality of my mind. On the one hand there were Lily and James Potter. They were my birth parents, but I only knew them through a magical moving photograph and stories told to me by those who knew them in life. Who they were and what they made me was something I was curious about, something I would muse on from time to time.

On the other hand, there was Albus Dumbledore. He was the one who had been my father since the death of Lily and James when I was an infant. All my memories of a father, at least all the memories that made any sense to me, were of Dreadfully Dead Dumbledore. I missed him.

But Dearest Daddy Dumbledore had not left me bereft. He had left me my Code. The Code of Albus. The Code was what kept me hanging on in the light just a little longer.

I took the last two tools from the hidden compartment of my trunk. These were also left to me by my mentor and adopted father, along with a few other items that, fortunately, I did not need to conceal. The first of these hidden treasures was Albus's old wand, a wand he had informed me was none other than the Elder Wand, appropriately called the Death Stick by some. The other item was a beautiful, perfectly forged silver knife etched in intricately powerful runes. I took the knife in my hands and felt the perfect balance, felt the coolness of it in my hands.

Tonight, I would kill someone.

The thrill of that thought froze in my mind as I heard a sound other than Ron's snores. I turned to see what it was. I was annoyed at myself for not having set the magical wards which would alert me to any wanderers or watchers. Albus would not approve.

But the alarm in my mind soon faded as I realized that Ron was not snoring because he was speaking. Talking in his sleep. He was having a nightmare about spiders. Of course, if he knew what I knew about the spiders in the Dark Forest, he would have cause for far worse nightmares. He was not awake, though.

Good. I would hate to have to kill Ron. The red headed Weasley boy's death would undoubtedly draw attention to me, his long time "friend". The youngest of the Weasley children had certainly tried to be a friend to me, and I played the part as best I could. If he were dead I'd have to find someone else to prattle on with about Quidditch or whatever topic normal boys discussed.

And of course, I know Albus would not like it if I killed Ron. I wouldn't want Albus to feel ashamed of me.

After donning my work robes and levitating my books and possessions back into my trunk, I was ready to go to work. I could feel the shadowy presence in my mind getting excited. In truth, this was not my work alone. I shared it with my Dark Passenger. The Passenger was always there with me, sometimes urging me to action, sometimes warning me of danger. It was the only one who really shared my life completely.

Putting the invisibility cloak over my shoulders, I walked past Ron and out into the Gryffindor Common Room. I walked over to one of the pictures sitting on a desk. Albus Dumbledore, former headmaster of Hogwarts and my mentor stepped into the painting with a sad smile. "Off again so soon, Harry?" he asked me through the painting. I looked at him sadly and tenderly put my finger on the frame.

"Don't get caught," I said. Then I felt the familiar sensation of being whisked through the air, pulled by a magical force triggered by the portkey. Before coming to my journey's end I began kicking my feet to magically slow my descent. Otherwise I would have crumpled to the ground.

I put the small portrait back in a pouch within my robes and threw the invisibility cloak back over my head. It was time to stalk my prey.

I stepped out through a blind alley behind a row of houses in the magic district in London. Here I was in Knockturn alley again, where I had spent each night for several weeks preparing for this event. I had studied my prey each night, making sure he fit the Code and making sure it would be a clean kill. I'm a tidy monster.

Quirinus Quirrel. The man had long been a Professor of Muggle studies at Hogwarts. Then he had become the school's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for a year, but had not been rehired after exhibiting some erratic behavior. Erratic behavior was a mild way of putting it. Quirrel had become a very, very bad boy.

Sometime during his year gaining "practical experience" in facing the Dark Arts, he had become seduced by them. He had joined the Death Eaters, though without Voldemort there, he had not received a Dark Mark. Still, part of joining required the killing of a non- pureblooded wizard. Quirinus had taken to the practice and found he liked it. Once a week he met with other of these neo-Death Eaters to discuss what they would do to gain power and specific witches or wizards they felt would make for good high-profile targets.

I waited outside the dark laboratory where the Death Eaters met. I could feel my heart racing with anticipation. All of my senses were on edge, sharpened and attuned to any sign of interruption. The light in the building went out. The Death Eaters were preparing to depart. One by one they would take hold of their portkeys and disappear.

All but one did. Quirinus Quirrel was in for a little surprise. I had replaced the candlestick he had been using for a portkey with another candlestick and enchanted that candlestick to take him somewhere else. Right about now he'd be arriving where I was about to go. I pulled out a galleon that I had made into a single use portkey and said the words, "Be sure."

I appeared right where I planned to be. Behind Quirrel. Drawing the Elder Wand I spoke my spell aloud. "_Petrificus Totalus_." Quirrel tried to resist, but power of the wand was just too much. He fell over to the ground. I quickly took his wand and got to work. We were deep in the Dark Forest where no witch or wizard would be visit, but there were many **things** that might. So I had, unfortunately, only so much time.

I silently thought "_levicorpus_" in my mind and moved Quirrel's body to the leaf covered rocks which I had prepared ahead of time. Then I thought "_incarcerous_!" and thick ropes rapidly began tying the dark wizard up. It was just a matter of time before the former Dark Arts teacher managed to break free of the spell I had him bound wi—

Quirrel's hand shot forward at me and he spoke the words, "_Avada kedavra_!" A beam of sickly green light shot at me and hit me in the chest. It made me wince a little.

I pulled down the hood of my invisibility cloak so that he could get a good look at me. "Really, Professor, did you really think my mother went to the trouble of protecting me from Voldemort's Killing Curse just so that you could cast the same exact curse and kill me now?" He attempted another curse, this time silently, but I read his intent and easily blocked it away with the Elder Wand. Other wizards with wandless magic were annoying.

"You're making me rush this much more than I rather would, Professor. But, I guess I can't blame you." I pulled out my knife from within my robe. I watched as Quirinus's eyes went wide in shock and fear. "Wait, P-P-Potter! WAIT!" he screamed.

Too late. I needed to do this. I brought the knife down to his cheek and drew his blood with it. I let the knife stay in his flesh for a few moments, feeling the sweetness of the cut. I could hear him whimper. So, pathetic. He could kill others with bravado, but when it was his turn all he felt was fear. No bravery at all. No wonder he was put in Slytherin when he was a student here.

I drew the knife away and then hopped up to sit on the rocks with my former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Now we can relax. Just take a look at the pictures here. Take a good look and see them." Quirrel looked. His eyes opened in fear and recognition. They were pictures of the wizards and witches he had killed since becoming a Death Eater. They prowled around their picture frames pointing accusing fingers at the wizard tied to the rocks.

"No, Harry, I didn't d-d-o what you th-think. I've been framed!" Quirinus Quirrel tried pleading with me.

"_LEGILIMENS_!" I drew his mind to every act of murder he committed as a Death Eater. One by one I took out the memories, holding them before his eyes, and the placing them in a special container, the silvery filaments filling it up.

"P-P-Please, Harry. D-D-Don't kill me. I had no-no choice! I'm s-s-s-s-orry I killed them. Please, Potter. What would D-D-Dumbledore think?" I looked at the pictures to consider his question. That's when Quirinus thought he could take advantage and shouted, "_Crucio_!"

He hadn't realized it yet.

"Another unforgivable curse, Professor? Not a very good way to plead for mercy, I must say." I looked him directly in the eyes so that he could see what was awaiting him. "Truthfully, what Dumbledore would think means a great deal to me. Fortunately, though, I'm pretty sure he would approve. You are a Death Eater and have killed many with your magic." I paused. "But it doesn't matter anymore, does it? You can't hurt anyone with your magic now that you have no magic. I've taken it from you."

Quirrel looked at me with a sense of loss on his face. He knew I was telling the truth because he could feel that his connection to magic was gone. "I see, Mr. Potter. You've made me what I have come to hate. Non-magic." All trace of stuttering was gone from his voice. He was no longer trying to gain sympathy. "A truly ironic and fitting punishment."

I looked at him with a touch of anger on my face. "You think that you losing magic is the same as these people losing their lives?" I smiled in a manner that had to be frightening. "I didn't take your magic from you to punish you. I took your magic from you so that I can work without you interrupting me with annoying curses." His eyes went wide. "I'm going to give you the punishment that both you and I deserve."

Then I stabbed the knife I held straight through his chest.

He screamed for a while, but I was used to that. I wasn't worried about him drawing attention. I was close enough to finishing that I was about to call for attention myself. I carved the dark wizard into small pieces leaving them on the rocks and leaves I had specially prepared to turn to ash once the job was complete. Finally, with each piece cut up into bite-size pieces, I sat back and looked at what I had done in complete satisfaction.

"ARAGOG!" I shouted out with my voice projected. No sooner had I shouted his name than a large horde of spiders leapt out and rushed to consume the pieces of flesh I had left for them. The giant spiders gave me a wide berth in deference to their mother. Or, perhaps it was in simple recognition of a fellow magical monster.

I just tried to be a good little monster.


	2. Chapter 2: Train Ride

**Chapter 2**

I stepped out of doorway of #4 Privet Drive and walked down the driveway without looking back. Finally, I could get out of that house and back to school. Not that living with the Dursleys was as horrible as it once had been, before Albus had come to take me in. They were far too afraid of me for that now. It was just that I couldn't be myself when I was there. The Ministry of Magic watched the residences of underage magic users living with Muggles far too closely for me to risk taking my Dark Passenger out for a ride.

The Dursleys were indeed lucky for what I had learned at school. Were it not for my Code I doubt I could have stopped myself from doing something...unnatural to them. But there were two very good reasons not to. Most importantly, as much fun as chopping them into little pieces would be, there was no way that I could avoid being found out, or at least drawing a lot of attention to myself. Second, they were neither magical nor murderers.

They didn't deserve my attention.

If anyone asked me if I was happy to be going back to school, which they did far too often, I would say that I was glad to be going back to meet all my good friends. Of course, that was a lie, but it was the sort of lie everyone expected and believed. It was important to keep up the appearance of feeling normal emotions such as that. Fortunately for me, I had gotten quite good at faking emotions and blending in, like a normal witch or wizard. I was, at least, happy to be going back to the wizarding world where I would be able to return to my favorite hobbies. Quidditch wasn't one of them.

The middle of suburbia where I stayed, now that Dumbledore was not around to act as my guardian, was as ordinary as any place in Muggle society. The houses were all settled in neat little rows and an empty children's playground sat across the road. The weather was a little unnaturally chill for it still being the end of summer, English weather notwithstanding. I stuck out my wand hand.

Where was that bloody bus? Looking across the road I saw something moving. It looked a lot like a big black, strange dog… And then with a **crack** a triple decker purple bus appeared. The Knight bus. Dumbledore had told me about it in the event I ever needed transportation in the Muggle world.

Stan Shunpike, the conductor dressed in a purple uniform, gave his instructions and told me the cost. There was something in his eyes, though that caught my attention. It was something both suspicious and slightly predatory, and it was as if the Dark Passenger recognized him. _He would be a good one for the spiders_, I heard it whisper to me.

I would have to remember to do some checking up on him.

I had the bus drop me off at King's Cross station. It couldn't take me into Hogwarts directly since Hogwarts was warded against unauthorized entry, but it had gotten me close enough. For the second time in my life, I walked through the brick wall leading to Platform 9 ¾ for the Hogwarts Express. My first year I hadn't needed to come with the other students. I had waited for them to arrive in the Great Hall with Dear Daddy Dumbledore.

Time to put on the show. I walked through the train compartments with a wide smile on my face, nodding my head at all the other witches and wizards as if I were somehow one of them. I made a point to stop by the trolley and pick up everyone's favorite treats. For Ron Weasley, it was the chocolate frog. Neville Longbottom enjoyed pumpkin pasties. For Hermione Granger, I brought liquorice wands.

Oddly, there was a man I had never seen before sleeping in the passenger car Ron, Hermione and I were in. According to his luggage, his name was Remus Lupin. Seeing that the man was dozing soundly, Hermione took the opportunity to close the door to the compartment for a private conversation.

She looked at me intensely. "Aren't you worried, Harry?"

Oh boy. I was supposed to be worried about something and I had no idea what it was. Knowing Hermione, it probably had something to do with a big test or a big report, but I had a hard time guessing what it was this being the first day back to school. Hard to fake an emotion when you aren't sure what the emotion should be. I wracked my brains but was coming up blank. So, I decided to go for nonchalant humor.

"What, me worry? Honestly, Hermione, with you and Ron around I think you've got worrying covered for the whole school." I looked, but it seems I'd missed the mark.

"Be serious, Harry! There's a maniac mass murderer loose in London and you're the number one target on his list!" Her eyes were full of emotion.

Oh? I felt a tendril of emotion twisting its way out through my own heart as well, but I don't think it was the same sort of emotion Hermione expected. A maniac mass murderer on his way to come play with me? Oh, I couldn't wait!

But best not to say something like that to my two friends. I tried feigned being concerned. "Really? When did this happen?"

"Bloody hell!" Ron nearly shouted. "Nobody's told you, Harry? My dad will have a fit with the Ministry when he finds out, to say nothing of Mum." Ron pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. On the front cover was an article with a large black and white picture of a disheveled looking man screaming seemingly madly. He looked perfect.

"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban prison, the first one to ever do it. He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. According to the article, Death Eaters like Black blame you for defeating him all that time ago, and so this madman blames you for his imprisonment."

I could feel the Dark Passenger within chuckling. I wanted to laugh as well, this was basically a gift. Of course, I couldn't laugh or even smile in this situation, not with people watching.

"Gee, do you think he can break into Hogwarts?" off the top of my head I could think of three ways myself, though my own concern was mostly being detected and not penetrating the wards specifically.

"Don't worry, Harry. Hogwarts is the safest place in the world. Nobody can break in and the whole Ministry of Magic is searching for Black. You have nothing to worry about."

Darn.

"Except, nobody is supposed to be able to break out of Azkaban, which has just as many enchantments on it as Hogwarts and tons of magical guards. And nobody has been able to catch him so far even though everybody is supposedly looking for him…" Ron added.

Thank you for that cheery thought there, Ron, I thought inwardly. "Great Ron, thanks for that 'cheery' thought," I said with sarcasm that did not match my true feelings. I most certainly hoped Ron was right and that this Sirius Black could find me. Hopefully in private.

Suddenly, the train lurched to a stop. Bit by bit the lights in the train went out and the temperature began to drop. Despite only being the first of September the window began to ice up. A strange pall began to settle over the train.

"What's going on?" I asked. I started to feel a slight feeling of dread, something I was unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of.

"The train has stopped. Dementors, the guardians of Azkaban, are searching the train for Black," Hermione informed us.

A black shadow floated outside the train compartment. A sinewless arm extended and the door slid open. The shadow, a wraithlike creature of emptiness with the appearance of wearing a tattered cloak of absolute blackness entered into the compartment. Everyone shrank back from the creature. I could even feel the Dark Passenger within backing away.

The Dementor drew closer to me. I could feel it, as if it were draining all the goodness and happiness out of me. Must have been disappointing for it trying to feed off of me.

Then my vision swam. I could hear a woman's voice crying out, "Harry!" Then there was a vision. _I could see a man and a woman in a room. It was my room, I knew. The man…was James Potter, my father and the woman Lily Potter, my mother. They were afraid._

_A dark figure appeared in the doorway. "You thought you could hide from me under false names? Fools! I am the Dark Lord! Give me the child!"_

_My father stood in the doorway, barring the dark figure from entering. "_Sectumsempra!"_ came a curse from the doorway and then my father exploded into a giant blob of blood. Some of it splashed on me. Hi dad._

"_Give me the child, woman, and you shall live," hissed the figure in dark robes. When my mother refused to move, the dark figure gestured with a wand and she was thrown aside. The figure stood, just a few feet from me. I heard him say the words of the killing curse, "_Avada Kedavra!_" but the beam of green light did not strike me. My mother had thrown herself back in the path and taken the full force of the curse. She fell back on me._

_The figure yelled something in anger, then sent another curse at my mother's already dead form. "_Diffindo!_"he said, and I was sprayed with her blood. He pulled her torn body off of me and aimed his wand at me point blank._

_For just a moment, I could see into his blood red eyes. "_Avada Kedavra!_" he called out in triumph, but the triumph soon turned into a shriek of pain, a pain I felt intensely as well and then…_

There was a bright light and a man's voice. And chocolate. Then there was just blackness.

How intriguing.


	3. Chapter 3: The Code

******A/N:** This is a replacement for the lost chapter. If there are any inconsistencies with the previous material, please let me know in a PM or review.  


**Chapter 3: The Code**

Gasping for breath, I quickly closed the door behind me. That was too close. Between Filch's cat (Mrs. Norris) and Severus Snape prowling the halls, I barely made it back into my dorm. Unfortunately, having a _portkey_ that led to my dorm would be a dead giveaway. Attempting any noisy means of direct transportation was also a bad idea. Which was why I had to sneak through the halls on my way back.

Removing my invisibility cloak, I opened my trunk. With a flick of my wand and a quiet incantation I warded the door against spying or entry.

I slipped out of my bloody "work" robes and started pulling my Hogwarts robes on. Then the knock came. I quickly threw the cloak over my clothes, just in case.

"Hey, Harry, are you in there?" Ron asked. "I need to get something."

It had taken some time for Ron to get into the habit of knocking before entering our shared room. Coming from a family with six boys who shared a relatively small home, he was used to people walking in on him and walking in on people without a word. That, of course, was no good for a person like me. A person with dark secrets. But, my Gryffindor roommate adjusted and now I could come back from killing a Death Eater and he'd politely wait for me to change out of my incriminating clothes before he came in. I was just glad I didn't need to share the main dormitories with the rest of the 3rd Year Gryffindors. That would have been incredibly inconvenient.

"Hold on a minute, Ron," I answered. "I'm changing."

"Oh, never mind, then," Ron answered. "I can get it later. But, Harry, have you seen Scabbers around? I can't find him anywhere. I think Hermione's pig with fur and teeth might have got him!"

He was worried. A normal friend would say something to assuage his worry rather than mention the probably morbid thought that Crookshanks had torn him to little rat bits. "Sorry, Ron. I'm sure he'll turn up," I said. Perhaps this was an appropriate time to attempt a bit of humor? "But if I see him, I'll let him know how much you love and miss him."

I could hear Ron muttering something about 'git' and something else before heading back to the Gyffindor Common Room, but it was good natured. Apparently I had gotten it right.

With Ron gone, I quickly stored away my clothes and tools. Then I pulled out the little rack where all the memories from my kills were stored. I carefully placed the newest acquisition in its little place of honor: Avery, Amycus Carrow, Nott, Macnair, Quirrell, Mulciber, and now Evan Rosier. And there were many more to come.

You might be wondering how someone like me was sorted into Gryffindor rather than Slytherin, and rightfully so. It certainly does take a kind of bravery to go out hunting down dark wizards, and it takes a different kind to plunge a knife into them. But that is not why the Hat sorted me as a Lion.

No, I don't go out to openly confront my victims. Instead, I carefully and meticulously plan out each step, make sure I have the advantage. Albus trained me to be skilled enough and powerful enough to handle most adult wizards, even at my age. But he also trained me to be sure I would succeed before I began, to use stealth and cunning.

So, why was I put in Gryffindor? Because Gryffindors are the least likely to be suspected of being cunning dark wizards. The _Confundus_ charm is a rather useful spell.

I owe my father everything. He trained me to use spells that could disable and incapacitate. Trained me how to cast silently, even wandlessly. Oh, it was true that I was naturally gifted with exceptional magical potential, marked at birth, but it was Albus who brought my magical development along years ahead of schedule. Above all, it was Dedicated Daddy Dumbledore who had taught me to think, analyze, to know both what things meant and what they did not mean.

It was part of the Code.

Dark Passenger

_I could see that Albus was upset. He usually had some lighthearted banter to share with me at the dinner table and a twinkle in his eye. I had often tried to emulate it, but from father's rueful laughter I had clearly not managed. Today, though, he was quiet, looking as if something heavy was weighing on his mind._

"_Is something wrong, Albus?" I wanted to call him 'dad', but he insisted that title be reserved for James Potter. Of course, I respected that wish._

_Father sighed. "I'm afraid I had a difficult day at the Wizengamot, Harry," he said with a shake of his head. "The Ministry decided to pardon and release a number of Death Eaters from Azkaban. They claimed compulsion, and despite all the evidence to the contrary that I presented, Lucius Malfoy has once again thwarted justice and regained many of his old political allies."_

_I frowned, and the dark feeling in my heart was clearly angry. _Treacherous!_ I could hear it calling out. It was the voice that wanted me to do bad things. Sometimes I listened to it._

"_I cannot believe that the Ministry would let these vile killers loose upon the world," he said, a touch of rare anger in his voice._

_My head dropped. "Am I vile too?" I asked. "For killing Aunt Marge's dog and the animals in the forest?" I hoped he would say no. I did not want Albus to think I was vile or look at me the way his eyes were when he was talking about the Death Eaters._

_Albus was swiftly by my side, his hand resting on my shoulder. That pained kindness I often saw in his eyes when he looked at me was there again. "You are different, Harry. Unlike them, you don't have the same choice." He stooped down to look me in the eye. "You were so young when the darkness got inside you. It is __**not**__ your fault that you have these dark urges."_

_Father stood, hesitating for a moment, before gesturing for me to follow him. We left his private dining area and walked to his office, moving past the stone gargoyles and up the stairs. With a wave of his hand a table that had been concealed before appeared before us. I stared in confusion. It was covered in junk._

_Seeing the ruined items, though, something inside me twisted darkly._

_Dumbledore gestured towards the items. "Harry, do you know what these are?"_

_I looked closer. There was a blackened and ruined book, a lump of twisted and melted metal that looked as if it had once been a large cup, what looked like a piece of jewelry that had been melted in a fire, a ruined locket, and a shattered ring. I shook my head._

"_What I am about to tell you is among the darkest and most foul things in all of wizardry. I will ask you to promise me that you will never attempt to learn more about this subject, and never speak of it to anyone."_

_If Albus thought this was bad, then I did not want to do it. "I promise."_

"_These are the remains of something called a 'horcrux'. They once held pieces of a dark wizard's soul."_

"_Voldemort's," I guessed._

"_Yes, these were the creation of Tom Riddle." Dumbledore confirmed soberly. "They were what allowed him to survive after his body was destroyed when he killed your parents and attempted to kill you. In a way, my destroying these items killed Tom. I am responsible for his death."_

_The idea struck me as odd that Albus would kill someone. "But you did it to save other people," I argued._

"_True. And I did not enjoy ending the life of my former student. But it was necessary."_

_Again, I hung my head. "But I enjoy killing. I'm like him, not like you."_

_Albus sighed. "In that way, I am forced to admit, you are like him. But there is a difference. When Voldemort created each of his horcruxes, he murdered another person in order to do so. It was for an entirely selfish purpose. And his continued murders were done with the intent to hurt people, and hurt them deeply. You, Harry, have chosen to resist the urge to kill because you do not wish harm to come to others."_

_I considered Albus's words, and it was true. I had been taught that hurting others was wrong, and I wanted more than anything to be good in the eyes of my father._

_The next moment, Father let out a deep sigh, and for the first time in memory I saw his shoulders hunch. "Alas, Harry, no matter how great your intention to be good, there is that darkness within you. And it will only grow with time. Eventually, Harry, the need for you to kill a person—perhaps a witch or wizard—will be too great for you to resist."_

_Albus Dumbledore pulled out a parchment. On the parchment were names, descriptions, and even pictures of witches and wizards. "This, my boy, is a list of dark wizards who sided with Voldemort during the last war. It contains evidence proving their guilt beyond any doubt. If allowed to continue in their dark ways unchecked, death and horror will come to many, both magical and Muggle."_

_My breath caught in me as I realized what he was saying. The man who had taught me the values of right, the sanctity of life, was saying something I had not expected him to say. He was giving me permission._

"_When the time comes when you feel that need to kill become so great that you feel you cannot resist," Albus looked at me, his expression one I had never seen on him before, "then you can choose to use that urge to rid the world of evil. I have not been able to root the darkness out of you, despite my best efforts, but that does not mean you must hurt the innocent."_

_Knowing that Albus would understand, knowing that is was okay, so long as I only killed bad people, it was as if a weight were lifted off of me. I looked at my father with solemn eyes._

_Almost as if Albus had had a change of heart, he swiftly drew close and grabbed my shoulders. "But you must be sure, Harry!" Father looked in my eyes searchingly. "There can be no doubt of their guilt, no doubt that they will continue to cause harm."_

_Of course. He wanted reassurance that his permission would not cause harm to an innocent person. I smiled and put my hands on his arms. "Yes, Albus, I will make sure. I will not let you down." That was the last thing I wanted._

_Almost guiltily, Albus embraced me. "Oh, Harry, I hope I have not failed you. You must never let anyone know. You must never be caught. It would break my heart. I love you, my boy. No matter what."_

Dark Passenger

The new Defense Against the Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, was by far better than the ones we had had the past two years. While we were primarily learning to defend against the varied dark creatures rather than against the dark magic of an enemy wizard, he presented each lesson in a way that taught us something practical. As Albus had spent the years tutoring me on how to handle dark wizards rather than creatures, the defensive charms being taught were actually new material for me and I found myself looking forward to his classes more than many of the others.

Unfortunately, in today's Defense class I was in for an unpleasant surprise. The doors flew open and the tall, dark form of Professor Severus Snape strode down the classroom aisle with a scowl etched on his face. As he strode through the room he gestured towards the windows and shutters slammed shut, immediately plunging the room into a gloomy dimness.

To say that Severus Snape was my least favorite professor was a gross understatement.

I wanted to kill him.

On a table. With my knife. Blood running down his cheeks. The whole ritual.

Unfortunately, Severus Snape did not fit the Code. In fact, he was a case study that Albus frequently referred to in our discussions of who did or did **not** deserve to die. You see, Severus Snape was a former Death Eater. Emphasis on _former_. That meant that he _no longer_ murdered or tortured people. Albus believed deeply in the concept of redemption, that a person could work towards good even if they had previously worked towards evil.

This greatly complicated the 2nd Rule of Ablus: Be sure. Proof a person's past guilt alone did not make them fit the code. I needed proof of _ongoing_ wrongdoing or intent before I was free to act. Sadly, while Severus Snape was the most sadistic, heartless teacher I could imagine, he had no inclinations towards violence or murder.

But I still hated him, and he still hated me. And, for the record, he started it.

The moment I meant him, the man scowled at me. He had a deep seated loathing, calling me a hateful, arrogant, strutting monster. I wasn't hateful, arrogant, or strutting. I'm a very polite monster.

It was because of Snape that I had to be taught Occlumency. The gall and rudeness of the man to brazenly steal thoughts from others minds. I only did that when I was about to kill them.

The bat-like professor swooped to the front of the room and had us turn to a completely different section of our books. Werewolves. Dark creatures, who almost invariably murdered and practiced dark magic. And were generally absent from society around the time of the full moon. Just like Professor Lupin always was.

Huh. Very interesting.

Dark Passenger

"Sirius Black! Sirius Black!" came the excited cries of Dean Thomas. "He's been sighted near the Forbidden Forest!"

It took an effort not to smile at the news. I would have a world renowned serial killer to play with in the not too distant future if Dean's story could be believed. Hopefully we would have some alone time very soon.

"And he's committed more murders!" the dark skinned boy continued to announce.

Oh? Well, if this wasn't a case of ongoing evil, I didn't know what was.

"Well, boys, take a good look," the voice of Argus Filch filled the room. "This is what will come to ya' if you go flaunting the rules and get caught out by Black!" And then Filch produced a very expertly chopped up forearm. It actually looked very familiar to me. "Found this in the Dark Forest, wrapped up in spider webbing. Seems the spiders got themselves a taste for wizard flesh." Filch held up another body part, still partially wrapped up in webbing. It was Evan Rosier's leg.

Crap.


	4. Chapter 4: A Sure Thing

**Chapter 4: ****A Sure Thing**

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" I yelled out.

Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. Let's see, my knife rushing down to pierce the chest of a werewolf dark wizard, slicing that wizard into…

Then the dementor was on me. Only the thinnest wisp of white light had issued out of my wand. It wasn't even enough to make the creature pause. I felt the light and color of life draining away. Another spell flittered up to my consciousness, though I couldn't remember where I had read about it. It was too late anyway; I knew I didn't have the strength to put any force behind the spell.

Then there was a bright white light and I heard a voice calling out "Harry!" The next thing I knew, Remus Lupin was shoving a bar of chocolate in my mouth. I took a bite and felt the warmth spread over my body. I had always thought chocolate being love in candy form was just so much silliness, but it certainly worked to return my strength.

"Thanks, Professor. I feel better. We can try again in a few minutes," I said.

Boggarts were such interesting creatures, able to take the form of a person's greatest fear. Dementors, on the other hand, were nasty little things. Unfortunately, I just didn't have the knack for casting spells that required positive emotions. I actually did have emotions, even positive ones, just they were detached from my thinking. That, apparently, made using the _Patronus_ charm rather difficult.

Of course, my real purpose in spending such alone time with Remus Lupin was not really about being able to ward off dementors. No, I was taking the opportunity to vet him, to make sure he was up to the Code, as well as observing him in case he was suitable to my needs.

Thus far, I was disappointed. Professor Lupin showed no indication of being a murderer or a dark wizard in the least.

"Out of curiosity, Harry, what were you thinking of when you cast that spell?" Professor Lupin asked.

Well, no way I could tell him what I was really thinking of. That would definitely make it impossible to do that to **him** later, if I could find evidence that he was a dark wizard, that was. I had to make something up fast. "The first time I ever rode a broom." There, that should work.

"Well, that's not good enough! Not nearly good enough!" He started trying to ask me about extremely happy memories. Maybe something about living with Dumbledore? My parents?

"I sort of have a memory of my parents. But, it's not really clear to me. It's like it's distant and far away. Blocked off, you know?" I tried. Hopefully this would full the werewolf and he wouldn't see me for what I really was.

"It is a real tragedy, Harry, that you never got to know James and Lily," Lupin said regretfully. "They were bright lights in a world of darkness." He paused, obviously seeing my look of surprise. "Oh, yes, I knew your parents. Lily especially trusted me and showed me kindness when nobody else would. I think without them, and Dumbledore of course, giving me a chance first as a student and then as a prospective teacher, I would have been a much different person. I owe them all that I am."

Damn.

"So, they knew you were a werewolf," I said matter-a-factly. Inwardly I had to sigh. Albus trusted him. My parents trusted him. There was not much chance that he was a dark wizard in disguise.

Lupin blinked for a few seconds. "How—?"

"Snape," I said with distaste. Professor Lupin corrected me. "Ok, 'Professor Snape'. Midway through the first term when he was substituting for you, he set an essay on how to identify werewolves. With all the clues he was dropping about the timing of your absence and all the references he was making between 'Lupin' and 'lupine' I'm surprised more students didn't get it."

"Does anyone else know?" he asked.

"I'd wager Hermione figured it out as well. But don't worry, she seems to trust you."

"I don't doubt she does know," Lupin said with a smile. "She is one of the brightest witches I've ever met for being so young. But, Harry, you've known all this time but didn't say anything. And you meet with me alone. Aren't you afraid?" Professor Lupin looked at Harry searchingly.

"Well, Albus trusted you so I knew you were safe," I lied. I hadn't known Albus Dumbledore knew that Lupin was a werewolf until just then. My true reason for meeting him alone was not irrelevant. "If he put you on a list of teachers to hire for the school then I'm sure you are trustworthy. And obviously Professor McGonagall agrees."

"I'm touched, Harry. I would like to practice more with you, but we'll need to wait to find another boggart when I have more strength to drive it off. Taking my Wolfsbayne potion takes a lot out of me." I could hear a lightness in his tone discussing his secret with me, able to explain fatigue without making excuses or deceiving. It must have felt good for him to be able to tell someone else his dark secret.

Unconsciously, I twisted the stone setting on the ring given to me by my departed mentor, the only one who had really understood. I missed that so much. Perhaps someone like Remus would understand...

Albus Dumbledore was suddenly right beside me, looking as alive as when I last saw him, down to the twinkle in his eyes. Albus looked at me. I looked at Albus. Professor Lupin was looking at us both, but he didn't see. He bid me farewell, not realizing that his old friend and teacher was right there in the school with us.

"No, Harry, you must not tell Remus. He would not understand," the former headmaster and deceased father figure said. He looked younger than I remembered, though his beard and hair were still grayish white. "I am afraid it would burden him too greatly, and I do not think his conscience would allow him to keep quiet. Even for the son of James and Lily Potter.

"Albus!" I gasped. "How is this possible?"

He nodded to me. "The stone on your finger. It was part of the ring Tom Riddle turned into a horcrux. But it was also one of the Deathly Hallows I told you about those man years ago. It called my spirit back to speak with you because your heart wished to hear what I thought of your idea. But sadly, I must tell you, even for someone who could understand you and loves you as I do, knowing and keeping your secret would be too grave a burden. This is something you must keep for yourself."

My heart was pounding in my chest. I think if I needed to repel a dementor, right this moment I could do it. Dear Departed Dumbledore was standing right beside me.

"The Ressurection Stone! It truly works! How often can I use it?" I asked.

"You may use it whenever you have need, my boy. You are its master."

"The stone," I said, voice eager, "could it bring you back permanently? Give you life again?"

The twinkle left the shade's eyes. "I will not lie to you, Harry. With the stone there are ways. There may even be a time when it is right to use, with the newly dead." Dumbledore paused, no longer the mentor and Headmaster, but now speaking as a supplicant. "But I ask you, please, do not use it to bring **me** back from where I am." There was pleading in my father's eyes. "It would be far too painful for me to leave there. Use it to speak with me, but let me return."

I nodded, with a smile, but there was an emptiness in my heart where the feeling of hope had been. "Then I should let you get back to your rest, Albus. Is there anything you want to tell me before you go?"

"Yes, my boy. I truly love you as my son. And so I say, 'Don't get caught. And always, always be sure."

And then he was gone.

* * *

_Dark Passenger_

* * *

I always enjoyed my visits with Hagrid. He was a simple man, and kind. It required very little deception on my part to get along with him. This time I was along with with Ron and Hermione. The half-giant was rather upset about the Ministry of Magic sending teams of wizards to destroy the acromantula colony in the Dark Forest. On this point, I could completely empathize with him.

"It's n'ah like Aragog actually killed anyone, is it? The bodies was all chopped up, weren' they? If ya ask me, he was only helping us all out by takin' care of the bodies fer us." Aragog was a he? I had thought the giant spider was the mother. "An' wha's more, ya can't blame 'em for eatin some'un when it's put right there for 'em ta eat."

Well, I guess I couldn't _completely_ empathize. I was more upset along the lines of losing my perfect method of disposing of my kills and having it be discovered in the first place. I had something of an idea of a replacement method for disposal at least. And the kill room was already ready for when I got a hold of Sirius Black. I hoped he wouldn't keep me waiting much longer.

"Well, at least you still have Buckbeak to keep you company," Hermione was saying. Ron was muttering something about spiders under his breath. Hagrid seemed to be comforted by Hermione's words. Interesting. When comforting someone who has lost something, reminding them of something they haven't lost can be a socially acceptable practice.

I could hear my Dark Passenger chuckling. _Well Harry, too bad about your dad, at least you still have your Mom. Nope, spoke too soon. Well, you do have Albus. Oops. Well, at least you've got your friends._

Cynical bastard.

Walking on our way back from Hagrid's as it was getting late, Ron suddenly gave a yelp of pain and grabbed his hand. I had to keep to myself that I always found it funny when he did that, sounding so much like a girl. "Scabbers!" he cried out. "He bit me!"

So, the three of us were off chasing the rat. It seemed to not get along well with Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. Then again, prey rarely gets along well with the predators.

We caught up to Scabbers and Ron grabbed it up. It struggled in his grip, trying to get loose. Very unusual for a magical pet. Most magical pets got on quite well with their owners. Some were a bit independent, but generally they were more or less obedient. Then Ron turned and pointed up to a spot just over a rise. I turned to see what he was pointing at. "Harry, run, it's the Grim!"

Now this was wholly unexpected. It was a dark-furred canine that looked far larger than any dog I had ever seen… except I had seen it before, when I was about to take the Knight Bus. The thing had been after me all this time. Amazing. This meant Professor Trelawney wasn't a crackpot after all. Who would have thought—

The creature charged and leapt. Too quick. I had only half managed o draw my wand.

But the creature missed me completely. No, not missed. It hadn't been aiming for me. It was charging straight for Ron! The huge beast bit into Ron's wand hand and started dragging him towards the Whomping Willow. Obviously not a very intelligent Grim, because a tree like that would beat whatever came close into… Oh, there was a trap door.

I had to move quickly to follow if I wanted to save Ron.

A part of me asked, why did I care? Did I care? I didn't have time to think on it. I needed to save Ron. I guess it didn't matter if I wanted to save my friend to maintain my illusion of caring or if I actually truly cared, because I was going.

I gripped my wand and pointed it at the tree. I cried out, "_immobulus_!" and the giant arborous aberration froze in place. Hermione was impressed. She hadn't seen me act so competently since our first year when I had let it show that Albus had taught me some of the basics. Would have been suspicious if I hadn't learned anything. Since then I had been hiding just how much I had learned so that I would appear to be a student of average abilities rather than display my real talents. So much easier to catch people off-guard when they thought you to be no threat.

We hurriedly crawled through the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. I knew where we were going since Albus had revealed so much of the secrets of Hogwarts to me before he passed on. Hermione figured it out almost immediately. "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack," she informed me.

I saw Ron through a doorway, but no giant dog. I rushed in with my wand at the ready looking left and right. That's when it dawned on me.

"Where's the dog, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"It's not a dog! It's a trap. He's an Animagus!" Ron was hysterical. But he was right. The man who had been chasing me, the man who the Divinations teacher had uncannily been seeing signs of repeatedly, though we had not realized it, was a wizard who could transform into the form of an animal and back at will.

The door closed behind us. There stood Sirius Black with his wand pointed at us. Before we could react he yelled out, "_expelliarmus_!" and our wands flew into the air for him to collect.

Well, this was it. He had me right where he wanted me. Either that, or I had him right where I wanted him. He had all the wands, but I could do magic without a wand. The problem with wandless magic was that it was only less than half as powerful as when done with a wand. The same was true about spells done silently. They were far less powerful than spells that were vocalized. The very act of restraining your act of casting restrained the power output. Or something like that.

Luckily, Black was wasting time talking about how he was going to kill me. My friends stepped in front of me and told him how they would have to be killed first. Then Black said only one person was going to die. He pointed… at Ron?

"Why kill Ron?" Hermione asked. Black turned his head to regard her. That was my opening.

As loud as I could make my mind go, I thought out _STUPEFY_! Sirius Black was knocked back and was out cold. Hermione ran over to him to see what had happened. She looked around to see if someone else had come. I walked over and retrieved my wand.

"Sorry, guys," I said. They started to ask why I was apologizing when I pointed my wand at them and said the word, "_obliviate_." Ah, good old memory charms. Sure came in handy when I messed up on a kill. I couldn't imagine how Muggle serial killers managed to get away with their crimes for any length of time.

Then I walked over to Black, grabbed a hold of him, and pulled out the galleon in my hand and said the key word to send me to the room I had prepared. "Dumble-sure."

We disappeared from the Shrieking Shack and appeared within Hogwarts.

* * *

_Dark Passenger_

* * *

Hogwarts was warded from entry via apparition, portkey, or the floo network. That is, unless you are the headmaster _or have special authorization from the Headmaster_. Luckily for me, the new Headmistress was never made aware that Albus had given me authorization to apparate or use portkeys here for "as long as I am a student at the school" and so had never revoked my authorization.

Another little tidbit about Hogwarts that few others knew: the school automatically tracked every living person who entered the grounds everywhere they went. The headmaster could access that information at will. Fred and George possessed a map that tapped into that magic just as if they were the headmaster. However, there were a few special locations in the castle where you could go and would not be tracked.

The Room of Requirement was one such place.

I had found it quite by accident after the discovery of the bodies out by the acromantual colony. I had been thinking about how I was going to keep on with my work now that the spiders had been discovered. My work required a space where I could be undisturbed, where the screams of my victim could not be heard no matter how loud they got, and where no other person could gain entry. I had must have walked all over the school looking for something that might work temporarily dozens of times when a door appeared where none had been before. When I opened the door to the room what did I see?

Plastic everywhere. What an interesting Muggle invention. It covered the ritual table in the middle of the floor. The walls were padded and completely sound-proof. The table in the center had straps and manacles built into it. There was little cart with shelves where I could store both my tools and all the body parts when I wrapped them up. I had to check my calendar to make sure it wasn't Christmas.

Of course, Christmas would really have to be today, though. Fate had brought me a dark wizard intent on killing either me or my friend (I was a little confused on this point at the moment) and who nobody would ever care had been killed. I had him all nice and wrapped up, his wand already snapped in half when he had been locked up in Azkaban, and I had time to go back to my room to retrieve my lovely knife and work clothes. Nothing could go wrong.

Sirius Black groaned and struggled awake. His previously menacing insanity now looked more pathetic than dangerous. His eyes were hollowed out. His teeth were rotting. His complexion was half a shade from that of a corpse. He looked around at his surroundings in puzzlement. Then he looked at me holding my knife.

"Are you going to kill me, Harry?" he asked in a slightly maniacal tone.

"Yes," I answered simply, with a smile.

He nodded his head. "Good. Then it will all be over."

Well, that wasn't at all satisfying. Where was the denial? The struggle? At least he wasn't trying to curse me with wandless magic, though. That always ruined things, made me rush the ritual.

I pulled out a photo of my parents. I could see the look of horror on their faces. Of course they would be horrified. This was the man who had betrayed them. Sirius looked at them sadly, almost fondly.

"You caused my parents to die. My parents who were your long time friends," I accused, hoping to get some reaction from this.

Sirius nodded his head. "I do not deny it. But, Harry… I hope you will give me a chance to explain before you do it. You need to know the truth."

This puzzled me. It was not going at all like I thought it should. Within me, though, the Dark Passenger was raging, yelling out to kill him quickly. _Kill him! He is the one who betrayed your family! Kill him before he kills you!_

And then there was the voice of Albus._ Patience_.

I brought out a picture from an old newspaper. The slaughter of more than a dozen innocent muggles. "How about these, Sirius? How do you feel about these?"

Now I saw the denial. Yes, this was to be expected. "No! You can't blame me for that. I did **not** kill them." His eyes were wild with something. It was possibly derangement, possibly wild fear, but to me it looked more like indignation.

"_LEGILIMENS_!" I nearly shouted the spell, piercing deep within his mind.

What I saw shocked me. I could not find a single murder. He had killed before, but in self-defense and _against_ Death Eaters. I saw and felt the attacking dementors coming over and over again. I saw him with my father, teasing Snape. With Remus Lupin helping him fight through the dark full moon nights as a werewolf. I saw when he had Peter Pettigrew made Secret Keeper for my family instead of himself. Then finally I saw Sirius chasing down Peter Pettigrew, the true betrayer, and the true murderer who blasted a whole roomful of Muggles with an explosive spell and disappeared, escaping as… a rat. The rat in Ron's pocket. Scabbers.

The spell ended abruptly and I staggered back, the ritual knife held loosely in my hand.

"You saw?" Sirius asked hoarsely.

I nodded. It was all I could do.

Inside there was a struggle unlike any I had ever experienced. The Dark Passenger demanded I complete the ritual.

'_KILL HIM!_' it insisted.

'_No, he is not a Death Eater. He is not a threat to anyone but a traitor_.' Albus replied. Or was that me?

'_What does it matter? He is here, before us. The knife is in your hand. Just do it!_' The voice hissed in my mind. I could feel almost a compulsion. The knife jerked upwards.

'_He does not fit the Code!'_ I argued back. It was my voice, just as much as it was the voice of my father. And with that knowledge, I gasped, lowering the knife once more and stepped back away from Black. My father's friend.

'_Forget the Code! We need this kill. Kill him!_' Now the Dark Passenger seemed weaker. It was as if the effort to override my will had taken all the strength it had. Now the voice was lessening.

I put down the knife. I gestured to the table and the manacles and restraints released Sirius Black. He rose up slowly, unsure of things. He looked around the kill room, and then back at me.

"Harry, I'm so sorry. I did not mean for them to die." His voice was weak, apologetic. "I feel so…ashamed for trusting Wormtail." I could see no accusation in his eyes. In his mind, it seemed, this was a just punishment for his 'crime'.

With a thought, I dismissed the plastic covering and the rest of the kill room furnishings. I no longer required them.

"No, Sirius, I'm sorry." I lifted my wand and said, "_obliviate_" with very little force.

I felt weary, exhausted. I had worked myself up for two kills and both had not been up to the Code. But at least now I had a target I could be sure of.

Peter Pettigrew. The rat.


	5. Chapter 5: Release and Embrace

**A/N: **I've added two sections to this chapter. If I've made any continuity errors I'd appreciate a heads up.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Release and Embrace**

It greatly bothered me that Peter Pettigrew had disappeared. It was a constant irritation that felt as if it had crawled under my skin and was growing like a burning rash. The vexation I felt at his escape and from forcing myself to pass on two kills I had worked myself up for had grown up over the summer until I could scarcely contain it. I needed a release.

The typical dark wizard in hiding wouldn't be good enough after such a long wait. I wanted-I needed something special.

I checked the clock. I would have enough time.

With a crack, I disapparated, forcing my way to my Deliberately Determined Destination. The cool feel of the ocean air greeted me as I reappeared on a cliff face overlooking the sea. I took a step forward and passed directly through the rock wall in front of me, through the wards that would have repelled anyone not attuned to them. Then I lit my wand with a _lumos _and started walking into the cave.

"It's me, Padfoot," I called out to my godfather, more so he would know not to try to hex me than for the social custom, although I think Albus would be pleased that I had taken to using the man's nickname. I was even making new friends.

"Harry!" the man's voice called out with a great deal more warmth than he was capable of when I had first met and almost killed him.

"You're looking good, Sirius." He looked like hell, which was a marked improvement. His eyes were still sunken and his entire body still emaciated, but the food I had brought him from the Hogwarts kitchens and the potions I had stolen from Madame Pomfrey's stores were starting to reverse the effects. Usually I find it hard to bond with anyone, even my two best friends and my ersatz girlfriend, but this guy was already starting to grow on me, sort of like a pet. One I probably wouldn't take out to the woods and dismember.

Sirius pulled himself out of bed, setting the wand I had obtained for him on the dresser next to him. There was a smile on his face as he quickly strode over to embrace me. That was going to take some getting used to, even though Albus had done so as often as I would let him. "It's so good to see you, boy!"

I looked around the cave and nodded appreciatively at the charms and transfigurations that Sirius had done to improve it. "Like what you've done to the place," I said with a smile and brought out the bag of food I had brought from the castle for him. I set it on the mahogany table that he must have transfigured from a twig. With a grin and a twirl of his wand he conjured a pair of chairs for us and we both took a seat. His magical strength was obviously returning.

After a few minutes of what Albus had told me was called "pleasant banter," talking about inanely unimportant details like school grades, who I was dating, and how I was getting along with my friends, Sirius let out a sigh and his eyes took on a serious quality that I knew meant he was about to speak about what he really wanted to talk about.

"Harry," he began, "I can't thank you enough for all you're doing for me. You are so much like James, and not just in how you look. Your heart is just like his, too." Oh, but I doubt that. "He was there for me when I needed someone, just as you are." Well, there may be some similarities, but I don't think my father had strapped him to a table and been mere moments from chopping him up.

"As much as I love you for this, Harry," he continued, "I think you should stop these visits. It's too dangerous for you."

I shook my head in denial, and I meant it. Oh, sure, there was some risk, but hardly worth mentioning next to what I was about to be doing. "Sirius, you're my godfather. And you need someone to look after you until you get your health back."

"I mean it, Harry," Sirius said, "You can't keep risking yourself for me. I'm strong enough now to take care of myself. You've done a wonderful job on me. Besides, what would your father think if he knew his son was hanging around with a mass-murdering dark wizard?"

Probably the same thing he would think if he knew his best friend was hanging around a serial killer sociopath.

_Speaking of which_, my Dark Passenger butted in, _don't you have somewhere you need to be?_

"We'll figure out a way to clear your name, Sirius, and we'll get Peter. Together." I was a bit reluctant on that point; I would have to forego my ritual to let Sirius in on the kill. I could trust him, and there was just enough darkness in him that I think he could understand, perhaps, one day. But for now, I would need to keep my secret. Still, if anyone deserved the joy of murdering that rat more than I did, it was Sirius Black.

Sirius tried to protest again, but shook my head. "Sorry, Sirius, I have to get back to Hogwarts," I lied. "We'll talk more about this next time, okay?"

He was about to protest, but instead just nodded as I walked back outside the wards to disapparate. I could have done so within the wards, but that would have briefly made them visible to anyone paying attention to such things. One outside, I took out the Elder Wand and renewed some of the protections on Sirius's hideaway. Then I donned my work clothes, pulled on my invisibility cloak, and left with a mild **pop**.

* * *

_Dark Passenger_

* * *

The city of Wolverhampton was just as I remembered it: Victorian architecture mixed among the growing modern sections with a very small community of magicals. I arrived at an apparition point just behind St. Peter's Church and quickly stepped through the garden path that led into the magical district of the city. Magical Wolverhampton was a very small section of the city, supporting no more than a few hundred magicals.

Of course, it was only one specific magical I was interested in today. And he would, naturally, be in the darkest, most rotten corners of this town. It was in his nature to remain at the fringes of society. Fenrir Greyback was too obvious of a monster to live among civilized people.

Instead, he gathered others of his kind to himself, hiding in the shadows where law and decency rarely made an appearance. He stayed out of sight, only emerging when he was ready to claim his next victim. He trusted no one, and anyone who ever crossed him would come to regret it.

He was careful, but for all his care, he had one weakness. His appetites. He had a…taste for certain things, and that meant habits. Habits I could exploit.

I watched as my mark left the run-down bar where he and his brutish pack hung out. With a coarse farewell to his mates, Greyback staggered off down a yet even darker side-street, heading for a place where very few ventured. Even his unsavory associates would likely shrink back from him if they knew what he got up to in the place he was heading. It was certainly not a place for a young Hogwarts student to be anywhere near.

The place he was heading was a broken down old inn on a street of ruined, abandoned structures. The place was a brothel of sorts, run by hags and vampires, catering to the most vile appetites for desecration and destruction. It was a place where dark things gathered, hiding from prying eyes, lurking in broken corners. Waiting for some young innocent to stumble in.

I was no innocent, but I looked the part. For someone like him, I would appear like a meal ready to eat. Allowing this creature to gain the advantage over me would not end pretty.

Somewhere along the way, Greyback had noticed me. With sudden swiftness and with a feral grin, the werewolf charged in my direction, trying to spook me into giving away my exact position. "Come on out, kid," I heard him say in his rough drawl. "I can smell ya," he added with a chuckle. He had moved to within just a few dozen yards of where I was waiting and watching. It would be extremely dangerous to attempt to take him now, out in the open.

I left the shadows, running towards one of the abandoned structures on this part of the street. I could hear the pounding of his feet as he gave chase, closing on me. As soon as I got inside, I slammed the door closed. I palmed my wand without a thought and whispered, "_flagrante_!" For good measure, I added a _colloportus_ charm before moving further into the house.

There was a loud, angry cry followed by cursing. My burning curse had obviously seared the dark wizard's hands, but he was not so easily deterred. Fenrir Greyback burst through the door, splintering the wood with monstrous strength. His inhumanely blue eyes glared up from the doorframe to where I stood on the ruined second floor banister.

"Stupid brat!" he bellowed. "You're gonna pay for that!" Smoke was still coming from his burnt hands.

I can readily admit to having a hard time with normal human emotions. Understanding them and acting as if I had them in the normal way had always been a great challenge for me. It had taken Albus years of patient teaching to help me seem as normal as I could. But there was one kind of emotion I had no trouble at all with. Fear and terror.

I backed up, my face a picture of abject fear, the kind I had so often seen on my victims in their last moments. The werewolf advanced, his rough face snarling, giving me a clue as to what he must look like when he was actually transformed into the wolf. He could see my terror and exulted in it, moving to the center of the building.

Yeah, pretending to be terrified was easy. I had seen it on the faces of Death Eaters so very often. Even animals revealed to me the signs of true fright as I had prepared them for my needs out in the woods. As intimate as I knew those expressions, it was easy to duplicate. For the scent, a simple charm sufficed. Presto, I appeared to be scared out of my wits. And I knew that the sense of terrified prey was an intoxicant to a predator like the monster below me. After all, it was the same kind of intoxicant to me.

The frightened child act was gone in a flash and I gave the lycanthrope a smile that made him hesitate in his approach. No that it mattered, he was right where I wanted him. With a gesture, I vanished the floor beneath the werewolf, sending him crashing down into the basement, where he landed on the patch of Devil's Snare I had been growing there since I had found out about his perversion and patronage of that hag-filled dive. And then I released the hovering charm on the large cements blocks I had left floating up on the ceiling, sending them crashing down on the struggling werewolf. He actually yelped like an animal.

The problem with lycanthropes was their extreme resilience to magic. Even without a wand in hand, a werewolf who had given themselves into the beast possessed great strength and could just swat a typical stunning spell away and break free of a body bind. Killing Greyback was never a problem. A strong blasting hex or a cutting curse could have ended him. It was rendering him unconscious long enough to transport him so that I could enjoy my time with him that was really tricky.

Luckily, so was I.

* * *

_Dark Passenger_

* * *

I looked over at the table where today's playmate lay tied down and strapped firmly to the table so tightly that he couldn't even twitch. The anticipation was like a warm drug coursing through my veins.

Fenrir Greyback. Death Eater. Murderer. Werewolf. And most certainly **not** a friend of the family.

He was awake now, his feral eyes roaming around the room where he was bound. I watched him struggle for a few moments. He tried to claw his way out of the plastic the Room of Requirement provided with the talons he had sharpened his fingers to become, only to find that I had preemptively removed the tips of each finger. I hated to cheapen the ritual by doing the cutting while he was asleep, but in this case, the ritual had to be adapted for my very special playmate. He was the most vicious werewolf in a hundred years.

Fenrir Greyback was a predator, and I could see in his eyes that he was looking for some chance to turn the situation to his advantage, to become the hunter and turn his captor into his captive. He was my kind of monster. Of course, knowing that, I had made extra sure of his bonds. Even someone ten times as strong as the strongest Muggle would find this to be inescapable. The struggling lessened as Fenrir realized he was bound so tightly he would not be able to break free.

That's when I walked over to him so that he could see me. Oh, how his eyes filled with hate. "Harry Potter," he growled, "What sort of stupid game do you think you are playing at? When I get out of—"

With a flick of my fingers and magical thought, I bound the werewolf's tongue to the top of his mouth so he couldn't speak. "Uh, uh, uh," I shook my head disapprovingly. "This isn't your game, Greyback. It's mine. Your playtime is over." I leaned over him so that I could look directly into his face, so he wouldn't have to struggle to look back.

"I have to wonder how it feels for someone like you to be caught, strapped down, and have no way out," I paused as I looked into his eyes, contemplating his emotions. "I'm curious. Perhaps one day it will be me caught in this position, knowing my fate, knowing the monster that will end my life." I lingered for a moment longer. "It must be frustrating for you… wanting to strike out, wanting to feel the moon rip your insides apart so that you can take a bite of me." I paused for a second in my musing contemplation. "But I think when my day comes I won't feel the anger you do. I think I'd find the irony too amusing to be angry."

I stood back up straight. Enough chatting. I needed to proceed to the next step of the ritual: meeting the demand of justice. One by one I levitated pictures of Fenrir Greyback's victims over in front of his face. There were only a few outright murders, but fortunately more than adequate to fulfill the requirements of the Code. He had killed, and he would almost surely kill again using either his wolfish claws or his magic. However, the majority of the victims I brought before him were not of deaths, but of children bitten by a werewolf and infected by lycanthropy. Doomed children.

"Look at all these faces. They're children that you turned into monsters." He closed his eyes, and so I shouted in his ear, "Look at them!" I released the bindings on his tongue to hear what he had to say. In response, I got a vicious laugh.

"You expect me to feel sorry for my 'sins', Potter?" He spit with that word, the spray of the spittle spilling over onto the plastic covering his face. "I'm not sorry. Those wizards got what they deserved. And those kids? I just gave them exactly what I got. Fools, thinking they're special because they are pure blooded. See how they like it when it's their own children who are infected with a blood disease," he snarled.

I shook my head. "Oh, no, it's not about you feeling remorse, Greyback. It's about you knowing, in your final moments, who it is that is getting their revenge." I pulled out my knife and the Elder wand. "Oh, I know I am a monster same as you, but I like to think _it takes a monster to truly do vengeance to a monster_. It's not about you saying sorry to the children." I tapped my finger on his forehead. "It's about the children paying you back through me, and you **knowing it** in the end."

The werewolf laughed again. "I don't even remember who most of them are."

I smiled as I pointed the wand at him, "But you will. I always make sure of that. _Legilimens_!"

There was no difficulty finding the moments of murder in his filthy mind. There were clear times where he was human and he was killing an interfering wizard with a wand or torturing some poor child. Then there were darker moments that were far more primal. Seeing these memories was like looking through eyes covered in blood, something with which I had experience. He was fully an animal, tearing out throats and biting to infect the innocent. Next to those violent, incoherent images, I drew out far more lucid images where Fenrir planned these events, trapping himself with wizards and witches during the full moon, especially with the children, willing to happen those very things he did in werewolf form.

The hardest part of this was choosing what juicy moments to immortalize in my collection. There were so many to choose from. I extracted a few of the most chilling killings and put the gossamer threads of thought into their containers. I paused at the memory of Remus Lupin's attack. Some emotion stirred in me when I saw it, one I didn't quite recognize.

"The funny thing is, Fenrir, that I can respect the werewolf in you. It's a killer without any choice in the matter. It's the human side of you that I feel compelled to end." Fenrir gave me an ugly look, one which I returned in kind. "That side of you that can choose chooses to hurt and strip away that very choice from others. You can't prevent yourself from killing when you are a wolf, but you could try to avoid taking away that choice from others." I took the shining, rune-scarred knife and cut a deep slit in his cheek, dipping the edge deep into his flesh and feeling the cool metal suddenly warm and then grow cold again.

He howled and then growled. "Now what? You plan on feeding me to the spiders in the forest when you're done?" His tone was sarcastic, but a second later he realized the truth of it and his eyes went wide. Only now did he realize I was not some kid with no stomach for the gruesome side of things.

"If only I could. No, I can no longer use that means of disposal." There was another way to hide my kill, and I really wanted to try it out, but I had a use for Mr. Greyback beyond his use on my table. "Half of the Ministry of Magic is out there looking for clues to who could possibly have been killing all those cu." I grinned, "I'm going to give them you to find. But first…"

That's when I brought the knife into his chest and started carving. He screamed, not in fear as most of my victims did, but in pain and fury. His werewolf blood spilled out a dark shade, nearly reddish black. As I cut upwards to take his arm off completely, his head snapped forward from the weakened plastic and his jaws bit down at me. He was still in human form, but even a bite from him now would be costly. If I suddenly started showing wolfish characteristics there would certainly be questions. Fortunately, the restraints slowed him enough that I brought up the knife and let the blade slice through his jugular. I continued to press the blade against his neck until I heard the bone snap. My eyes locked with his, monster staring at monster for one final instant. Then his head was completely severed and his eyes rolled back into his head.

I felt a great release, like a great weight which had been pressing down against me was suddenly gone. I looked at the Fenrir Greyback's large body. Even in human form he was quite hairy and big. I guess I still had a lot weight to get rid of. That's what the knife was for.

When I finished cutting each part up and wrapped and gathered it all together, I wrapped each piece in fresh spider webbing. I pulled out the Marauders map of the school grounds, noticing the position of the various search parties in the Dark Forest. As much as I'm sure Albus would be glad of my killing a serial mass murdering werewolf, I knew he'd be very cross with me if I slipped up and got caught.

With a loud **pop**, I apparated from out of the soundproof killing room provided by the Room of Requirement and into the Dark Forest in an area the acromantula colony had once used for hunting. I had very little time before my arrival drew the attention of those searching the forest, so I quickly spread out each body part and mounted the head in a very conspicuous place. I turned my head to the side and looked at my handiwork. He actually looked better this way.

Then, with another **pop**, I was back in the Gryffindor dormitories putting my equipment away. Everyone knew it was impossible to disapparate from Hogwarts or to apparate into Hogwarts. Which was exactly why nobody would ever suspect that's exactly what I had just done. Of course, if the Headmistress had been paying attention to where all the students in the school were at this moment, then I would be busted. Fortunately, I knew exactly where she was right this instant. I knew exactly where everyone in Hogwarts was right now. They all had their eyes on me.

Or so they thought.

I quickly dressed in my Quidditch uniform. I looked at my clock. Two minutes and twenty nine seconds remained. For that length of time, I checked every detail of my appearance. Everything had to match perfectly.

Don't get caught. The first law of Albus. That applied to every time I killed. I had no attention of breaking my mentor's heart while he was in the afterlife any more than when he was alive. This however, was going to be a work of art when I pulled it off. I almost wanted to call him with the Resurrection Stone to share this moment with me. The degree of difficulty for this particular kill was off the charts: I was murdering an incredibly difficult to capture wizard/werewolf, I was apparating on school grounds without being noticed, and I was winning a game of Quidditch.

_**Crack!**_ I appeared right where I had left from, just as the other me crashed through the bleachers. I was just under the wooden bleachers surrounding the Quidditch pitch, the only place out of sight of the spectators. I grabbed the golden snitch which I had left for myself, got back on my Firebolt, and flew up through the hole I had made when I crashed through, snitch in hand.

Oh, and I was time traveling.

The cheers were erupting all around me. Gryffindor wins!

Inwardly, I was cheering myself as well. I had kept the match going for more than two hours after I had spotted the snitch, time after time feinting and making the Hufflepuff team seeker completely miss seeing the golden ball of win. Then, only after the game had lasted long enough to serve my purposes, I chased the snitch as it was diving towards the stands, catching it just before I crashed down below the seats where I had stashed the time turner. Not only would I not be caught murdering or time traveling, I was going to have an airtight alibi.

The Code of Albus wins.

I landed with the rest of the team and did the shouting and the cheers that I had practiced for hours with Albus before his death, perfecting my imitation of excitement. People would think me strange if I didn't act excited. In fact, perhaps I was just a little. It wasn't often I got to murder the other team _and_ a dark wizard/werewolf at the same time. Go me.

Ron and Hermione were there cheering me on, which was to be expected. But then I got the first surprise of a day I had planned to utter perfection. Cho Chang, dressed in her dark blue wizards robes, ran out and jumped on me, wrapping me up in a giant hug.

"Harry! I thought you had hurt yourself!" she cried.

This boyfriend-girlfriend thing was still going to take some getting used to.

At least she wasn't trying to kiss me.


	6. Chapter 6: Snogging With Death

**Chapter 6: Snogging with Death**

Snogging. I saw it all over the school now. The previous year you could barely notice anyone at all kissing in public, but I had a suspicion that had more to do with the presence of the Dementors on campus than anything else. My first two years in Hogwarts there had been some particularly over-eager couples among the sixth and seventh years, but in general the couples who were locking lips together kept it a private matter.

This year was different. It all started with the arrival of the students from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, most of the representatives being sixth and seventh year students and all of them beautiful, including some who were even part _veela_. They had arrived along with the students of the Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning as part of a competition to be held during the school year. As soon as these new students came into the Great Hall, literally blowing butterflies out their bums, half the school began snogging each other. Most of the boys from Gryffindor were mooning over lasses from Beauxbatons while Viktor Krum from Durmstrang attracted nearly as many of the Hogwarts girls as the rest of the boys in the school put together.

Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for Mr. Greyback, Headmistress MacGonogall had decided that there would be inter-school Quidditch competition as part of the tournament festivities. The Hogwarts House teams were all playing each other in a series of friendlies intended on keeping us all sharp for the end of the year, particularly considering that Viktor Krum of Durmstrang was on the Bulgarian national team as Seeker. I had to thank Professor MacGonogall for allowing Quidditch to continue. It was the only time I could manage to break away, not only from all the couples experimenting with new ways to put their tongues in each other's mouths, but also from the insidious manipulations and maneuverings this game of "love" seemed to stir up.

No sooner had the open snogging started than I soon found to my misery that somehow I had become the subject of intense interest by members of the opposite sex. At first I was perplexed on the matter. I had no illusions about being some sort of Adonis, nor was I displaying any particular magical gift beyond being able to fly on broom better than most—I was careful not to appear too clever. But then I recalled what Dearest Daddy Dumbledore had advised me concerning the power of fame and how attractive it would be for some. They loved me for my scar.

And they wouldn't let me out of their sight long enough to kill anyone, such as, say, Peter Pettigrew.

That's where Cho came in to it. In her own way, Cho Chang was as messed up as I was. The previous year her mother had been murdered by neo-Death Eaters while she watched. Only her father interrupting had prevented her from being killed as well. After that she had sought safety in a relationship with an older student from Slytherin house. That student had been expelled without an explanation, but the day of his expulsion I had seen her sobbing with bruises on her face in Madame Pomfrey's care. Since that day she had visibly recoiled from physical contact many times.

She was perfect for me, and in a way, I was for her. Cho was naturally popular in the school, a good match for a 'famous' boy wizard, so nobody would really gossip over that. She wasn't ready for physical affection, so we didn't need to walk around holding hands all the time, and absolutely no snogging, which was great for me since I was sure getting that close would show just how faked and artificial my feelings were. With Cho, though, I could give her as much space and time as she wanted and she didn't think that I was cold or emotionless; instead, she thought that I was understanding and caring. And I had to admit I thought she was pretty enough. If I was going to have to snog with someone eventually, it probably wouldn't be bad for it to be her.

Of course, having a girlfriend didn't keep me safe from all the intrigue going around the school now that the proverbial lid had been blown off the romantic relationship box at Hogwarts. There had been a couple instances where plots had been hatched for the express purpose of breaking up the relationship between me and Cho. There was also some strange tension between Hermione and me, though I chalked that up to her unresolved feelings for Ron, who was a couple years shy of being mature enough to handle a serious relationship and probably a lifetime shy of having any chance of being on an emotional even-footing with Hermione Granger. I was just glad I only had to deal with being psychotic.

I sat beside Cho Chang during a break between classes rather than with my usual friends. Ron had apparently been bitten by one of the love zombies and now he was tongue wrestling with a witch in Hufflepuff named Lavender Brown every chance he got. This made Hermione into some kind of emotionally unstable creature I could barely recognize. No way was I coming within a Quidditch pitch length of her when she was in a state like that.

"So, Harry, who do you think will represent Hogwarts in the Tri-wizard tournament?" Cho asked. This was one of the topics I was supposed to be thrilled about.

"No idea really. If it's not someone from Gryffindor I'd have to say it would probably be Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff. He's the best in the school at a lot of charms and the teachers all seem to think he's brilliant." That had the advantage of not only sounding suitably interested, but also was fairly true. But it seemed too mature of an answer, probably best to throw in something that sounded more biased. "As long as it isn't someone from Slytherin, I'll be happy."

That drew a laugh from Cho. "Wouldn't it be exciting if you were the one chosen for our school?" she teased.

"Me?" I asked with a grin. "What about you? You're a whole year ahead of me, and right clever as well. What if you are the champion for Hogwarts?"

There it was, one of those funny moments where I saw her laughing genuinely and I knew she was truly comfortable. Something about moments like this that I had with Ron, Hermione, and now Cho Chang made me feel actually normal for a little while. It was as if I didn't have a Dark Passenger with me urging me to kill. Come to think of it, it had been quiet much longer than I had remembered in a long time. I could still feel that dark presence, but it was oddly silent.

"Come on, Harry!" I felt my arm about to be yanked out of its socket as Hermione had unexpectedly appeared and pulled me up from my seat. "They're about to announce the champions for the tournament." I looked back to Cho and saw an expression on her face that looked like it would burn a hole through a wall. My girlfriend was jealous of Hermione. Oh, goody, another problem to work out.

I resisted Hermione's pull a bit and she stopped to see what the matter was. "Um, 'Mione, thanks for coming to get me, but that was a little rude to Cho." I saw Hermione stiffen and sniff, about to say something harsh, so I hurried on. "You and I have been friends since like forever, you know that. Of course I want to go see the name drawing with you." A harmless lie, I had no wish to see the name drawing in the slightest. I gestured for Cho to join us. "Just, Cho isn't used to how you, Ron and I are dragging each other around without asking first."

Oops. I had said the 'R' word.

"Ron won't be joining us," Hermione huffed. "He's too busy slobbering all over that _thing_ he calls a girlfriend. Honestly, the way he carries on with her…"

Well, at least now Cho wasn't glaring jealously and I had little need to add anything to the conversation. The two of them were all too happy to rake Ron over the coals. Now there's an interesting idea...

The Great Hall was filled to bursting. The Goblet of Fire sat in the middle of the room, a red flame burning in the cup indicating that it had made its selections. Over the past two days anyone wanting to join the competition had simply needed to write their name and their school on any scrap of paper and put it in the cup. The cup would then decide who would represent each school as its champion. A little more fair than trial by combat, but probably not as fun.

The first scrap of paper shot out of the over-sized magical chalice, flew high into the air, scorched by magical fire just around the edges and then tumbled down into waiting hands. Professor Minerva McGonagall snatched the paper from the air and then announced, "The champion for The Durmstrang Institute is… Viktor Krum!" Loud uproarious cheers erupted from the Bulgarian side, accompanied by cheers from his Hogwarts stalker fan club. Another slip of paper shot out of the cup. "The champion for Beauxbatons Academy of Magic is… Fleur Delacour!" A loud, mostly feminine cheer erupted from the French school, this time with a number whistles and catcalls from her Hogwarts admirers. A third and final slip of paper exploded out of the cup in a burst of reddish fire. "The champion for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is…" she paused much longer this time. "Harry Potter!"

What?

"Harry Potter," she repeated. Everyone had the same thought as I going through their minds. What would make the cup select me? I hadn't put my name in the cup. Even if I had entered, I hadn't done anything outstanding as a student. As far as anyone knew I was just an average student. My only claims to fame were the extraordinary deaths of my parents leading to the defeat of Voldemort when I was an infant and my exploits on the Quidditch pitch. How could it pick me, unless… it knew. And it approved.

I was starting to walk down to join the champions, thoughts swirling in my head when flame shot out of the Goblet of Fire once again. A fourth piece of paper was launched into the air to the surprise of everyone. Perhaps this piece of paper was going to say, 'No, just kidding, really, it's supposed to be Cedric Diggory.' I was sure hoping so. Headmaster MacGonagall caught the paper in a hand that trembled slightly.

But no. "And… again, Harry Potter," she announced.

This was exactly what I did _not_ want. All the attention would be on me. All of the "Boy Who Lived" publicity would resurface. My every move would be watched. It would make getting out to take my Dark Passenger out for a ride all the harder. I saw a look of complete surprise on Cho's, Hermione's, and especially Ron's faces.

Severus Snape stood there glaring at me in that dark way only he could. Beside him were a stern looking Professor McGonagall, Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons, Ivan Karkaroff of Durmstrang, and Alastor Moody. None of them looked at all pleased at this, not that I could blame them.

Ivan Karkaroff, headmaster of Durmstrang, was a former dark wizard. A part of me wanted to invite him up to a nice quiet room all alone and show him my collection of plastic and magic knives. However, just as the Hogwarts Potions Master had been one of my adopted father's case studies of who not to kill, so was Ivan Karkaroff. The Durmstrang headmaster had indeed been one who joined Voldemort early in his campaign, drawn to a charismatic dark wizard promising a return of power to traditional magical values. When things turned ugly and the murders began, Karkaroff only took part out of fear and then bought clemency for his actions by naming other followers of the so-called Dark Lord.

There was a time when the thought of him would have sparked off my inner monologue between the part of me that sought to follow the Code of Albus above all else and the part of me that would enjoy killing such a potential exception to the Code. Not now, though. Apparently, my rational mind and conscience had won the argument decisively. There were no more whispers urging me to take his magic and his blood.

"Harry Potter," the Headmistress began, "Can you explain this?" She held the two slips of paper out in front of me. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire _according to the rules_?"

There was unspoken accusation that I had fooled with the cup in some way. I wanted to deny putting my name in at all. I had not put my name in the cup once, let alone twice. I did not deserve this scrutiny.

"Yes, Headmistress, I put my name in according to the rules," I answered with a straight face. The only way to avoid even more scrutiny was to pretend I was seeking it. If people thought there was some sort of scandal the media would descend in a feeding frenzy. This way, there would be only 'normal' attention. "I don't know why there's a second piece of paper with my name on it."

Madame Maxime and Ivan Karkaroff started voicing their protests about the irregularity of the selection almost immediately. Having no use for further attention from the heads of the opposing schools, I interrupted them before their protestations became overly vociferous.

"Excuse me, Madame Maxime, Headmaster Karkaroff. I know how strange this is. I don't know why there were two slips of paper with my name on it. But," I added with a short pause, "I don't see how you would think that somehow Hogwarts was benefiting from this. The Goblet of Fire is supposed to pick the best champion for our school. If it was right to choose me then of course it is fair. If somehow there was a mistake, then your champions would have an easier opponent to defeat."

This stopped their protestations.

I turned to Professor McGonagall. "Professor, I'm sorry. I only put my name in on a lark. I didn't think the goblet would pick me. I have no idea why my name came out two times. Unless someone else put my name in as well." Of course someone had put my name in. The question was, why had _two_ people put my name in, and why had the Goblet of Fire selected me twice rather than once? "If you want to select someone else or have another drawing, that's fine with me," I added truthfully.

* * *

_Dark Passenger_

* * *

It was decided by Bartemius Crouch, Ministry of Magic Department of Magical Law Enforcement Head, that I would have to be the representative for Hogwarts and that I was bound by magical contract to participate. When one of the Hufflepuff seventh year students later confessed to having put my name into the cup instead of his own name when pressured to enter by his friends, most of the ire from the school at having a fourth year student selected as a champion to compete with the seventh year students from the other schools was deflected away from me. This explained one of the scraps of paper bearing my name. The other remained a mystery.

This also had the unexpected result of uniting my friends together on my side. I would have found their loyalty to me touching if I were the sort to feel that sort of emotion. Ron pulled himself away from Lavender to talk things over with me, he and Hermione calling a truce to 'be there for me.' Cho Chang's total and sincere concern for me won her at least a temporary acceptance from the other two who had previously not liked her all that much.

"Stupid Malfoy," Ron ranted. "Can't keep from running his bloody mouth. The git acts like you meant for that Hufflepuff boy to write your name and put it in the cup."

Draco Malfoy was a nuisance. He was the son of a Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, who had gotten off without punishment by claiming to be acting under the influence of the _imperius_ curse despite clear evidence of willing cooperation. Draco had taken several of his father's pure blood supremacist and elitist ideologies to heart at a young age and had the arrogant sneer to match. So far, though, Draco's most serious threat to me had been making me have to respond to his insults in a way that would seem normal.

"Yeah, he is a foul-mouthed cockroach." I found that if I repeated insults other people had used before it normally worked better than when I tried to make things up myself. On the other hand, the annoying prick was arguing something I would rather the school believe than the actual truth—that I was the most skilled wizard in the school. "But that bit about my taking a spot from someone who might deserve it more is probably true. It's just not my fault. Maybe the cup added my magical skill and the student who put in my name's skill together or something like that. Who knows how the Goblet of Fire decides things?"

Hermione had read up on the tournament's history, of course. "Well I say it's criminal that they are making you go through with this. Honestly, a fourth year has no business competing in this tournament. Students have died in it!" I perked up at that little bit of history. Maybe there was some potential here… but… no. Neither Viktor Krum nor Fleur Delacour even remotely fit the Code of Albus.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so worried about you!" Cho was hugging me again, something that was happening with increasing frequency. I guess I was getting used to it, as I know longer felt shock and fear go through me whenever she did this. She felt warm and comfortable and it almost felt...natural and normal now.

* * *

_Dark Passenger_

* * *

After enduring a lot of exposure to the press, with one reporter in particular writing with a ridiculous slant to the point that I was seriously considering introducing her to my goblin-made knife, the time had almost finally come for the first part of the tournament. From Hagrid and Ron I had found out that the first challenge would be dragons. It was a good thing he had warned me because while I had learned much from Albus about how to deal with dark wizards, we had not spent much time at all dealing with creatures as large and powerful as dragons.

It was when my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pulled me aside on the pretext of giving me advice on defeating the dragon a few days before the event that I discovered that he was a dark wizard.

"Mister Potter," Mad-Eye Moody, this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor called to me. "Come see me in my office. I have something I want to speak with you about."

When I got to his office, Moody questioned me about how I planned to defeat the dragon. I found his mannerisms very suspicious. There was a manic gleam in his eye, something that matched the darkness within me. And when he suddenly pulled a knife from his table and slashed my arm, I was taken aback. In an instant my wand was in my hand. As the blood dripped down, I heard Moody muttering something low. Something ritualistic.

Then the man looked up at me with his one good eye, the magical one spinning strangely around. "That, Potter, is what it will feel like if the dragon is to but nick you with one of its claws or its tail! You're going to have to be faster, smarter, and better than the beast if you're going to even survive!" Moody gestured towards my wand, "You might get a lucky shot in with that on me, but against a full-grown adult dragon nothing you've got will be able to put a dent in it. You've got to have a strategy ready before you ever go out there."

I kept my wand on him, my eyes narrowed.

"Now, go to Madame Pomfrey and get yourself patched up. But mark my words! If you don't prepare for this like your life depends on it, you won't come out of this in one piece!"

I left his office with thoughts of Alastor Moody on my mind. If it were not for the fact that I now planned to kill him, I would have gone to the Headmistress of the school. Practicing the _imperius_ curse on students as part of a "lesson" was certainly odd, but performing a blood magic ritual was something else entirely. He would surely have been sacked and an official inquiry started. Since I didn't want too much scrutiny on my new target, though, I said nothing.

* * *

_Dark Passenger_

* * *

I began regretting my decision as the hour of the tournament event drew nearer. Professor Mad-Eye Moody had not been seen on Hogwarts grounds since that incident. It was likely he had fled, but nobody at the school was alarmed by this as they did not know about what had happened between us. My greed to keep the kill to myself may have let a practicing dark wizard escape.

No matter. I would track him down later.

Now it was time to face a somewhat more immediate threat. Ron and Hermione were there wishing me the best. Most of Hogwarts were showing support, though not as fervently as would be expected if there were no controversy over my selection. Cho Chang was the last to come up to me before I entered the champions' tent to await my turn at the challenge. Were those tears in her eyes?

"Take care of yourself, Harry," she said. She drew closer to embrace me and I moved to accept, but then she paused for a second, as if she were thinking of something. Then she wrapped me up in a tight hug and whispered something incomprehensible in my ear as it was muffled by a half-sob. Then she quickly turned and almost dashed away.

We were gathered into the tent and the rules explained: get the golden egg from the dragon without hurting the dragon, any of the eggs, or yourself. The first contestant, Fleur Delacour, began. There was a lot of oohing, aahing, and yells of fright and delight from the crowd. Then a great cheer before Viktor Krum was called out. Again there were cheers and roars from the crowd before the crescendo of cheering denoting that he had passed the challenge as well. Now it was my turn.

I was up against a Hungarian Horntail. The great beast was flying above both her eggs and the golden egg protectively, her eyes roving around the arean, looking for anyone making a move to come closer. Which was exactly what I had to do.

Honestly, this was no way to go about this stalking ones prey. The Second Rule of Albus: Be sure. To do a proper job of it, I would need to first observe the subject, carefully, understanding its habits and reactions. If the objective was to obtain intelligence on the potential victim, such as in the form of a magical golden egg, it would best be done when they were out. Definitely not making the attempt when they were at home, on guard, on high alert.

I called for my broom. "_Accio_ Firebolt!" The broom sped through the air from the castle and arrived at my awaiting hand just in time.

I took off just as a gout of flame struck where I had just been standing. The dragon seeing me flying around near her eggs immediately saw me as a threat and gave chase. I went through a series of twists and turns, avoiding a straight line or a predictable pattern the dragon could use to either blast me with fire or strike me with claws or tail. As I came around the dragon's side I had line of sight on the golden egg and called out my spell, "_finite incantatum_!" I quickly swung back around the other side, ducking the dragon's spiked tail and cast the spell again, "_finite incantatum_!"

There. Now the spells preventing the egg from being affected by a summoning charm were disabled. Of course, I still had the dragon after me.

Dangerous Deadly Dragon. I wondered just how much plastic it would take to wrap the thing up so it couldn't move. And of course I'd need to tie its jaws shut together, couldn't have melted plastic or melted me during the ritual. I wasn't even sure the Room of Requirement could actually accommodate an adult beast this size. Or if it could fit, would there be any sort of table that would support it? Unfortunately, though, I don't think I'd get any points in the tournament for a solution like that.

Now for the most dangerous part of this game. I spun in the air and dived directly towards the brute. I extended my wand and called out another spell, "_LUMOS MAXIMA_!" The light flared bright white from my wand, pointed directly into her eyes. The dragon abruptly pulled up, I dove down and to the right, called out my final spell, "_ACCIO_!" and the golden egg flew up to my hands.

Now the cheers from Hogwarts was deafening. Even most of Slytherin House were whooping, though they quickly quieted down. I was soundly congratulated for my ingenuity. After the marks were given out, I apparently scoring the highest, even Karkaroff grudgingly giving me seven out of ten, we were debriefed in the champions, tent. The next challenge would be related to a message in the egg.

Then things went crazy. Everyone in the school was wildly cheering for me. I could barely move as I was mobbed. There were no longer any doubts about my selection as a champion and I was being cheered for my actual abilities rather than my fame over my mother's sacrifice and my mere survival. It felt great. Not quite as great as slipping my knife through someone, but still, pretty good all said. Now, if only I could only get people to cheer like that when I took a life. That would be bliss.

But the euphoria of the celebration quickly dimmed and the practical dilemna reared its ugly head. Here I was, in the spotlight, the one place Dumbledore had warned me I must never place myself. The constant cheering and pats on my back were starting to feel more and more uncomfortable as these thoughts went through my head.

Back at Hogwarts Ron and Hermione were gushing about how great I was. "No wonder you were picked by the cup. You've been holding out on us, mate!" Ron exclaimed.

They had no idea how much.

One of the larger classrooms was packed full of students of all Houses and all ages, a full on party was being thrown. I was being plied with Butterbeer and some kind of green punch that I could taste the bite of firewhiskey spiked within it. The cheer of "Potter! Potter!" went on as the students recounted the days events. I was starting to feel dizzy from all the attention. Everyone wanted a piece of me.

Then I was being grabbed and dragged out of the room by a familiar hand. Cho Chang was leading me out of the crowd. I had no idea where she was taking me, but anywhere was better than in there with all that attention. It was making me a bit self-conscious. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"The upstairs girls' bathroom. Nobody ever comes here," she replied when we reached the spot. I was about to ask why she had brought me there when Cho suddenly grabbed me from around my neck, leaned forward and kissed me. I went rigid with shock. I was frozen like that for a long moment and she looked at me searchingly.

"Oh, Harry, I was so 'fraid you would be hurt or killed!" She looked at me intensely for another few seconds, but then lowered her gaze a bit. "You've been so good t' me, Harry, not like other guys. So patient. I cannae believe how lucky I am to have you. And then thinking you might die and I never showed you how I feel about you…"

I started to protest that she didn't need to do anything to show me, but she put her hand on my mouth. She looked at me again and smiled. "I'm the first girl you ever kissed, aren't I?" Then she kissed me again, this time more firmly. And she didn't let up. I felt her lips warm on mine, and then, she was opening her mouth. Her whole body pressed into me and things suddenly got much, much warmer.

So, this was snogging.

Ok, maybe I had misjudged the practice a bit. It seemed to have its merits. I liked the feel of her warmth against me for sure, and the thing she was doing with her tongue was certainly interesting. The saliva part was not very hygienic, but you have to take the bad with the good. At least no dragons were involved. I could get used to this, at least, as long as we kept it in private and not all over school like so many students were doing.

The kiss slowed and stopped, both of us catching our breaths. Then Cho was screaming. Uh oh. I had done something wrong. She must know what I am and the thought revolted her. I knew I had avoided snogging for a good reason.

But she clung to me even tighter, pointing at something on the bathroom floor. I looked around at where she was indicating. There, in a corner where we couldn't see when we first walked in, was someone else. It was the headmaster of Durmstrang Institute, Ivan Karkaroff. Or, rather, it was his head. The rest of the body was dismembered and lying all over the floor.


	7. Chapter 7: Lake Harbor Butcher

**Chapter 7: Bay Harbor, Lake Horror?**

Scratch Alastor Moody off the list. He's definitely dead. I was not the one to kill him, though, and I'm pretty sure now that he wouldn't have fit the Code anyway. Shortly after the discovery of Karkaroff in, and all over the upstairs girls' bathroom, both Professor Alastor Moody and Bartemius Crouch were found murdered, obviously victims of the Killing Curse. Large quantities of _polyjuice_ potion in the professor's office indicated that someone had been impersonating Professor Moody.

This also explained the second scrap of paper with my name on it. Moody was the one assigned the duty of preparing the Goblet of Fire for the tournament. Somehow, whoever was impersonating Professor Moody had gotten the magical artifact to accept me as a fourth contestant using a _confundus_ charm. He had no way of knowing the cup would naturally select me, so wanted to ensure I would be chosen. The only question was why would he want to do that?

The death of Mr. Crouch helped shed some light on who was responsible. After some investigation it was revealed that Mr. Crouch's son, Bartemius Crouch Jr., or Barty for short, was a staunch Death Eater before Voldemort's defeat and destruction. Karkaroff had disclosed Barty's allegiance in return for release from Azkaban prison. It was thought that Barty Crouch Jr. had been sent to that prison, but upon inspection it was found that the tormented prisoner locked up there was actually his mother transfigured to look like him. An inspection of Mr. Crouch's wand revealed that he had cast the _Imeperius_ curse on his son in order to control him and covered up his crime through his position in the Ministry of Magic.

What amazed me was that he had gotten away with this for more than a decade. It was only when Barty turned the tables on his father that something happened to reveal his dark nature. There was a lesson in this for me. The best way for me to avoid detection was to be the one responsible for finding myself. When I graduated from Hogwarts I was going to go into Magical Law Enforcement, perhaps as an auror.

Unfortunately, there was still this distraction of a Tri-Wizard Tournament to deal with. I had wanted to break away to go looking for Pettigrew and seek for signs of Barty Crouch Jr., but I was under such constant scrutiny as a champion for the school I couldn't risk it. If I were caught using advanced magic or circumventing Hogwarts security I would be watched even more carefully afterwards, perhaps even after graduating. The first law of Albus: Don't get caught. I had to bide my time.

The press, as annoying as Rita Skeeter of the Quibbler could be, was not my only concern. Since my initial results in the tournament apparently removed all doubt from anyone of my worthiness to be champion, the "romantic" machinations of the witches at the school had only increased. One particular worry was a girl by the name of Romilda Vane who was constantly spreading rumors about Cho in an attempt to get us to quarrel, and had at one point even attempted to get me to take a love potion.

Despite Cho Chang's recent desire for more intimacy, she was still much better than the attention seekers, especially the ones from Beauxbatons and Romilda Vane. Ok, honestly, the recent intimacy with Cho was something I was enjoying, and she didn't seem to notice anything odd or off about me when we were close. The only real downside to this was that Cho did not want as much distance between us as she had wanted before. It was not any more demanding of my time than Ron or Hermione's friendship, but with all the other scrutiny going on it really left me with no chance for hunting and killing.

"Um, Harry?" It was Neville Longbottom. He was in Gryffindor, but had never displayed much in the way of aptitude or courage. Still, he was a decent sort, certainly not someone I'd really want to kill. "Have you considered using _gillyweed_ for the next challenge?" Odd that Neville would know about that, especially with this challenge being in the water. He was fairly good at herbology, but he was no Hermione Granger when it came to studying.

"Thanks, Neville, that may come in handy," I said after I let Neville explain the idea to me. The problem with using _gillyweed_ was that it would provide too much of an advantage. Not only would a person using the rare magical Mediterranean plant gain the ability to breathe underwater, they'd also have an enhanced swimming ability. That would be great if I wanted to win the tournament. Not so great if I wanted to come in a close second or third. "Say, Neville, where did you hear about this?" I asked.

"Oh, I found out about it from a book Professor Moody lent me…" Neville trailed off, thinking about the wizard who had been found dead locked in a trunk in his own office. I said something I thought was suitably sensitive, and apparently it was since Neville seemed to feel better about the connection of his information to Alastor Moody's death after I said it. He was comforted, but my mind was whirling.

Barty Crouch Jr. had wanted me to not only enter the tournament, but also win it. He had given me advice on how to deal with the dragon, though I had the idea of flying already since it was something everyone already knew about. But now I find he tried to provide me with a solution to the second challenge using Neville. Why?

Then there was Ivan Karkaroff's death. He had been sliced up, each part of his body carefully cut into individual pieces. Each cut was clean and precise, almost the same as how I would do it, but without signs of a knife being used. Aside from the obvious use of magic to make the cuts, the resemblance to my own work was uncanny. Each body part was severed at the same points and joints I would use and wrapped up in plastic in the exact same fashion. Whoever was doing this obviously had access to the remains of my victims.

Either that or they had witnessed one of my kills.

Despite these murders, the Tri-Wizard Tournament continued. There was really no choice about that for the three champions, the magical bindings of the contract made its cancellation quite… problematic. As for the rest of the students, the Ministry of Magic claimed the death of Bartemius Crouch was the obvious goal of the murderer and now that the goal was accomplished the murderer had fled the school, posing no further particular danger to Hogwarts. Moody's death was judged the means to the end, while Karkaroff's was considered a murder of opportunity.

Of course they were wrong about Karkaroff and Crouch Sr. While Barty Crouch Jr. had almost certainly killed his father partly out of revenge, Crouch Sr. was also just a means to an end: Me. Karkaroff was an entirely different sort of death. Ivan Karkaroff, while certainly an obvious target for Barty Crouch Jr.'s vengeance, had been killed in a way that bespoke a more intimate murder. It was as if the killings had been performed by two different people. One of them was like me.

* * *

The time finally arrived for the second challenge. The three schools and their supporters all gathered around at the lake by Hogwarts grounds. I had thoroughly explored this lake with Albus while growing up, my foster father and former Headmaster of the school introducing me to the magical merfolk indigenous to the area. Later I had contemplated using the lake as a means to dispose of body parts, but came to the conclusion it would be far too risky. If any of the merfolk discovered human remains they would alert the Headmaster of Hogwarts or perhaps another of the teachers.

Strangely, I found myself without any of my friends before the start of the challenge until Ron showed up with a worried expression. Interesting that I would notice their absence. Perhaps I was becoming more sensitive and perceptive of human emotions and relationships. For example, I noticed that Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were also in a somewhat panicked state. Something was definitely wrong.

"Harry, have you seen Hermione anywhere? We were supposed to watch you in the tournament together, but I haven't seen her all day." Hermione was missing? "She was hanging around with that git, Viktor Krum the night before, probably snogging his face off…" Ron sounded incredibly bitter. Hang on, Hermione was dating Krum? "But of course, Harry, she was still gonna pull for you in the tournament, even if that creep has his meat-hooks in her," Ron quickly added. So much for the theory I was becoming more sensitive.

"No, Ron, I haven't seen Hermione. I haven't seen either her or Cho since…" Oh. That was it. In the meeting for all the champions I was told that something had been taken from me, something that I would miss. I figured it would be best to tell Ron what was going on before he became too upset. Of course, when I told him that merfolk had taken Hermione and Cho and had them trapped underwater, it did little to comfort him.

Soon enough it was time to begin the challenge. I noted that Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, was using the Bubble Head Charm, the same charm that I would be using. Viktor Krum transfigured himself partly into a shark, managing to give himself the creature's head, but the rest of his body remained mostly human. He would have some difficulty swimming. I enacted my Bubble Head Charm and dived in after the two.

As long as they steered clear of the grindylow and the giant squid, they would be fine. The grindylow were a sort of scaly water demon that enjoyed drowning those involved in shipwrecks. I hoped the other champions would know which direction to swim. Unfortunately, though, I noticed that the other two contestants were swimming the wrong way, away from the merfolk village where our friends were undoubtedly being held. The village was really the safest place in the lake.

Of course, if the others knew that Albus had taken me below the lake to meet the merfolk several times and that I had learned to swim around the lake long before I officially started studies at Hogwarts, they might have chosen another challenge. If anyone knew what an advantage I had here they would surely question how I could possibly do other than finish first. Luckily for me, only Definitely Deceased Dumbledore knew about that, and I had a hunch he wouldn't be telling.

Hmm, Fleur Delacour was about to be drowned by a group of grindylow. I considered watching to see if there were any safeguards put on the contestants, but the part of me that thought I should save her from the water demons was surprisingly strong. I whipped out my wand and stunned them off of her. She recovered from her panic and then I motioned for her to follow me.

We arrived at the village together, swimming past the underwater dwellings of the grey-scaled, yellow-eyed merfolk. In what was the equivalent of the town square, all three of the captives were tied together with thick seaweed. A ring of the merfolk, obvious spectators, filled the area, many carrying sharp spears.

I quickly dove to the lake bottom and found some sharp rocks and went up to free Cho. Fleur quickly cut her sister, the treasure she would miss most, free from the seaweed and began swimming up to the surface without a moment's hesitation. I, on the other hand, made an attempt to free Hermione once I had cut Cho loose. Of course, the merfolk prevented me as Hermione was not my stolen treasure to rescue. I knew she was in no danger, but the delay allowed Viktor Krum enough time to arrive and rescue her ahead of me.

Satisfied that I would be outperformed by the other two and not draw too much attention to myself, I grabbed Cho Chang and towed her back up to the surface of the lake. There was a great cheer and then I was being helped out of the water. Cho was revived from her magical slumber along with Fleur's sister and Hermione. I finished in third place, but because the merfolk chief took it upon himself to explain that I refused to leave Hermione behind the judges conferred and I was given greater marks, increasing my performance to second place. I was satisfied with that.

Then I was surprised by Fleur Delacour coming up to me and giving me a massive hug. I thought I was going to be in trouble with Cho until Fleur explained in her thick French accent how I had helped her when she was in trouble. By the time we had all dried off the story had spread to the whole school. I soon found myself greeted by warm smiles by all the Beauxbatons students and my reputation among the Hogwarts students had gotten a huge boost as well. Not exactly how I planned it, but a reputation like this would work in my favor.

Serial Dark Wizard Killer with a heart of gold.

**Author's Note: This was originally intended to be the final chapter (one chapter for each book in the HP series), the last chapter including both the 2nd and 3rd challenges in the tournament leading up to the conclusion, but I haven't had the time to really work on it. So, rather than make you wait longer, I decided to go ahead and post what I've done so far as separate chapter.**


	8. Chapter 8: Reputation

**Chapter 8: Reputation**

"A spider?" The sphinx moved to let me pass. Oh for Gryffindor's sake, how the blazes could the answer to the riddle be so easy? "Oh, come on, that was hardly a riddle! No need to go easy on me because I'm a fourth year, give me another one!"

But the sphinx had moved off the path to let me pass. I was progressing far too quickly. If I kept this up I would win the tournament handily. Where had I gone wrong?

If I had wanted to systematically find my way through the labyrinth, I would have taken one side and kept with it until I found a dead end, then back tracked and taken another branch. Rather than do that I had taken random paths: left, right, left, then right again at each branch expecting to become lost and waste time. I had to defend myself from a few minor dark creatures such as a boggart and a blast ended skrewt, but there was nothing in the maze that would pose a serious challenge to anyone who had studied the curriculum. Since teachers were posted as observers I couldn't delay, even if I would want to in an environment like this maze.

Three possible choices. Eeny, meeny, miny, mo. Ok, the passage on the right. I went through it and… oh drat. There was the bloody Tri-wizard cup right in front of me. I looked around to see if there was something that could possibly delay me, some reason not to go straight for the cup. That was when I saw an enormous acromantula heading straight for me. It was nearly the same size as Aragog.

At this point, I wished I had the Elder Wand with me instead of my usual one with its phoenix feather core. The added power of that wand would have been nice against something so gigantic. "_Impedimenta_!" The spider barely slowed at all. A human sized creature would be slowed to at least half their normal speed, but the acromantula was slowed only a fraction of that amount. Stunning spells would be useless and might even make the creature more aggressive.

Of course, I could simply kill the creature with _arania exumai_ but then there would be no excuse for me not to simply grab the cup. I needed some way to delay the creature without killing it. Of course, when facing a giant spider… hmm, better if I were not dealing with something that enormous.

"_Reducio_!" I cast the spell and watched as the giant monstrosity shrunk down to a far more manageable size.

Then I heard a shrill scream as Fleur Delacour entered the center of the labyrinth with the still very large spider almost right on top of her. A burst of red light shot out from her wand as she attempted to stun the creature. It was still too large for a weak stunning spell to have much effect. Fleur had a look of terror on her face. I had always liked acromantulas. They were very neat monsters, very careful to wrap up their food and knew how to stay hidden. However, Fleur seemed to share Ron's opinion of them.

Thinking of Ron, I had an idea. When he had faced a boggart in our third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Remus Lupin, the creature had turned into a giant spider. Ron used the _riddikulus_ incantation to force it into a humorous shape and thereby banish it. I could do something similar. Silently, I thought out the incantation of the jelly-legged jinx and stabbed my wand towards the spider. The acromantula suddenly lurched. Fleur raced past the creature, heading straight for the cup. Perfect.

I watched her vanish just before I reached the pedestal where the cup had been sitting. In the place of the shining cup suddenly appeared a crystal plaque. I could clearly see the words "second place" written on it. I snatched it up without hesitation.

* * *

_

All's well that ends well. The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had all been seen off. Beauxbatons had the Tri-wizard Tournament champion. Durmstrang was winner of the Interschool Quidditch tournament. And Hogwarts… Hogwarts had the smug satisfaction of knowing that the only reason we had ended up second place in either event was because we had students with superior morality. Students like me.

Who would suspect that Harry Potter, the wizard who chose to make sure Fleur Delacour was unharmed rather than claim the Tri-wizard Cup, was a serial killer? Who would expect the Seeker who refused to use underhanded moves even when the other team was doing so in the final match to be capable of deceiving everyone. My attempts to avoid fame and attention were bearing unexpected fruit. By the time I left the school grounds this year everyone would be calling me Saint Potter.

That was what I was thinking when I heard screams.

I ran towards the sound mostly from curiosity. I arrived a few minutes later along with several other students. The place where the cries had come from was a study room just off of the castle library, one I had often used when I was "hanging out" with Ron and Hermione. Inside it was a mess: paper was strewn everywhere, there was an upturned wooden table in the middle of the floor, a chair was scattered on the floor, seemingly blasted apart. But that was only the beginning of the chaos I would find in that study room.

As I managed to see through the mass of the gathering onlookers, I caught a glimpse of a form on the ground. It was someone in the robes of a Gryffindor house. A girl, perhaps as old as myself. As I came closer I saw her stretched out, unmoving on the floor. It wasn't until I saw her face, though, that I knew who it was and the full impact of what this meant struck me like a hex. The girl on the floor was Hermione Granger.

I started shoving people aside and as I managed to move into the center of the room, I saw another body. I had no difficulty identifying this one. I had never thought much of Ron's second hand robes before now, money and financial standing never made a difference to me, but I could always spot Ron in a group because his robes were always a bit rougher, a little less vibrant in color. Now it was Ron himself who looked worn out. He was lying there with an odd, vacant look on his face, his hand still wrapped around his wand.

For a moment, I was absolutely stunned. There was an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was different than my usual detachment. This was…

"It was HIM!"

The voice cried out from the other end of the room. In my shocked state I slowly turned to see. There stood Ginny Weasley, a look of utter horror and disbelief on her face. She had her arm stretched out and her finger pointed directly straight at me.

"MURDERER!"

The first coherent thought that could pass through my head was "yes, I am," but that was not the sort of thing I needed to be saying now. I looked around the room, seeing the eyes of the other students turning to stare at me. I could see most of them looking with questions, but some others, I could already see held accusation in their eyes.

That was when a tall man with raven hair and a hawkish face strode into the room, his black robes swirling around him. Professor Severus Snape locked his gaze with mine as he entered the room, and only after he finished dressing me down with his ill-intent did he turn to look at the situation. I could feel in my bones that whatever had happened, Snape was already sure I was the cause before he even heard Ginny's first words.

"It was Harry!" Ginny said, continuing to point at me. "I saw him kill my brother. I heard him use the Killing Curse on Hermione!"


	9. Chapter 9: Empty Feelings

**Chapter 9: Empty Feelings**

Murder was something I knew. I had killed and gotten away with it a dozen times, and I always knew the day might come when I was punished for what I did. Other than the disappointment I knew Albus would feel, the thought had never bothered me before. But now actually being accused of Ron and Hermione's murders left me cold. What's worse, they were saying I had used _avada kedavra_ to kill them. Something about that left me feeling... indignant.

"Ginny, I didn't kill your brother or Hermione. You must have made some kind of mistake," I said.

The red headed girl shook her head, tears continuing to stream down her face. She turned towards Professor Snape. "I heard her scream and then he said the words..." she choked. "And then Ron… Ron ran in to the room. I followed him in and… Harry was there with his wand pointing at Hermione on the floor. And they fought… but Harry was… Harry was so strong. He just knocked aside Ron's hex and then… he killed Ron like he had killed Hermione. A bolt of green light… and he was dead."

She was sobbing and pointing at me. The sheer emotion of her accusation doing more damage than the actual words she said. It was clear that she obviously believed what she was saying.

Severus Snape strode from Ginny's side over to me and grabbed me by the wrist. I made some protestations as he grabbed for my wand. My protests were half-hearted because I knew why Snape wanted my wand. I just hoped he wouldn't snap it in half.

"Severus, what are you doing?" came the grandmotherly voice of Headmistress McGonagall. She entered the room with her pointed hat looking as straight and dignified as always.

"Potter here, has been caught in the act of committing a murder," the head of Slytherin House sneered. "It seems your perfect little Gryffindor has a dark side to him and he was caught by none other than his own two friends. And for that, he murdered them with dark magic."

"That's not true!" I retorted. I could barely stand Severus Snape's touch, I had to jerk my hand away. "I came to this room to hear what the screaming was about. I don't know what Ginny really saw, but I swear it wasn't me."

"Your silver tongue will not get you out of this, Potter." Snape took his wand and aimed it at mine. "_Priori Incantato_!" Snape held my wand, expecting to see the effects of the Killing Curse. Instead he saw the effects of the last spell I really had cast with it: _reparo_.

"Honestly, Professor, I just ran into the room a minute or two after I heard the scream," I said, turning to face McGonagall. "If I did murder them I wouldn't be running back here afterwards." The accusing stares of everyone in the room, aside from Severus Snape and Ginny Weasley, faltered as they were now confronted with evidence that I was innocent.

"What's going on?" came a familiar voice. It was Cho Chang, entering the study room. "What are you doing with Harry?" Professor McGonagall explained the situation, including that it was unclear if I were guilty of any crime, but that Ginny had seen me killing Ron and Hermione.

"But, that's impossible!" Cho looked at me with wide eyes. "Professor, Harry couldn't have been the one to do this!"

"And why, Miss Chang," Professor Snape demanded with a hiss as he said the words, "are you sure Mr. Potter is not to blame? Given your relationship with him…"

"I know he didn't do it because he was with me!" Cho said as her eyes locked with mine.

Very convenient, an alibi. "Yes, we were just about to go back to our rooms when we heard the scream. I ran ahead first," I lied. Now as the adrenalin rush was over, my head was beginning to clear. I needed to show everyone that I could not be the killer. I started to reach out to touch Ron. "I can't believe…"

"Do not touch anything, Potter!" came Snape's predictable command.

I wheeled on him. I let show all the anger, all the disgust I ever had for the man. A normal person could not be rational now. I had to show grief I didn't feel and Snape was the perfect target for my tirade.

"SHUT UP! Don't tell me not to touch my friend you insufferable, hateful prat!" I called on my training with Albus and tears flowed down my face, which turned red with apparent emotion. "I just lost my best friends. They died! And you are still just as vicious and spiteful as always. I did NOT kill them!" I advanced on him and shoved him back away from me, ripped my wand from his grip and gave him the best adolescent furious stare of my life. And it felt so good to be getting it out.

"Why you—" Snape started to aim his wand my direction when a sharp order from the headmistress held him up short.

"Severus! Go back to your office. I will handle things here."

I was shaking as I turned back around. I could feel the tears coming. And surprisingly, I really did feel grief as I looked at my dead friends. It was much like losing Albus all over again. What I wouldn't give to have them back, to have him back. And with that sincerity, I went back to Ginny Weasley, my friend's sister.

"Ginny." She was looking away. "Ginny, look at me." After a moment she complied. "I don't know what you saw, but it wasn't me. Maybe someone was using polyjuice potion to look like me, and maybe they even dressed like me, I don't know, but I swear it wasn't me." She looked at me, not fully convinced, but her gaze softened a little. It was enough to make everyone in the room acknowledge the chance I was telling the truth.

Despite that, I couldn't help but feel as alone as I had been when I had lost my mentor and foster father.

"_He was a great man, Dumbledore," Hagrid was saying._

_I was standing there in the Great Hall, still in shock over Albus's death. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt who had brought the news. He, Hagrid, and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall had come together to explain what had happened. They were being so careful not burden me with the details. But I needed to know how it happened. Whoever was responsible would pay._

"_Yes, Hagrid, Albus was a great father." I hesitated. "That's why I want to know what really happened. He couldn't have just suddenly fallen over dead."_

_Hagrid looked bothered. "Ya know 'Arry, I dun reckon I un'erstan' it meself. One minu 'e was talkin with the Minister, the nex 'e was dead as a stone. Pleny a' winesses. The Minister asks 'im if there were any dark wizards tha' migh' be a threata the Malfoys an' then Dumbledore jus dies right there…"_

It had taken me months of searching to find the answer. Albus was not just Headmaster of Hogwarts. He was also Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. It was his position as Chief Warlock that I learned was special. Anyone taking the position of Chief Warlock was required to make an Unbreakable Vow to tell the truth to the Minister for Magic in carrying out his duties.

I had killed Albus.

In carrying out his duties, the Chief Warlock would have realized I was a threat to the Malfoys. When the Minister asked Albus that question, he chose to hold back the truth, breaking the Unbreakable Vow. It cost him his life to protect me.

Those were the loneliest days of my life. I was cut off from my mentor and the only father I knew. Severus Snape wasted no time letting me know that I was no longer off-limits. Draco Malfoy followed Snape's lead, though the Slytherin student was no serious threat to me. Emotionally, though, the lack of Albus intervening served to deepen my isolation. As much as Ron and Hermione had tried to cheer me up, they were no replacement for Albus.

But now, there was no replacement for them. They had never taken my father's place, but I realized they had taken their own places. In their own way they were just as important to me. Now they were gone, and I wanted them both back so bad I could taste it.

On our way back to our dormitories, I thanked Cho. "You didn't have to do that, but thanks. It was horrible, everyone thinking I was a killer." Particularly for a murder I didn't commit. She gave me a quick hug and headed towards her own dorm room. I headed on towards the Gryffindor commons.

Severus Snape was in the Gryffindor rooms. Some first year had blurted out the password for him as soon as he had turned a dark glare their way. When I got up to my room he had broken the wards I had set. Usually only prefects got to have private rooms, but as the adopted son of a former headmaster of the school, I was given one of the prefect rooms to share with Ron. Shortly after I arrived Professor McGonagall appeared as well.

"What is the meaning of this, Severus?" the Headmistress demanded.

With a wave of his wand, Professor Snape forced my trunk open. "Potter here, is hiding something, and I intend to prove it!" The potions master gestured with his wand and my belongings flew out to land on the ground. "Ah ha! What do we have here? This trunk has a false bottom." I held my breath as Snape pulled up the false bottom. His eyes widened in shock. Then with feverish alarm he started pulling out the contents of the trunk bottom.

"What is this?" he asked breathlessly.

"I'm sorry," I began contritely, my head bowed. "I know I shouldn't have Zonko products at school. But..."

Professor McGonagall shushed me and turned her attentions back to Snape. I did my best to conceal the smile that was creeping onto my face. When the headmistress finished, Snape left wordlessly in a huff. I didn't even get a reprimand for having contraband items, instead I got a brief apology from McGonagall. The other Gryffindors who had come to watch what was happening gave me smiles and words of support. It seemed people were thinking I wasn't guilty afterall.

With that finished, I closed the door to my room, reset my wards, and added a further defense Snape would not know how to dispel. Most seventh year students who really wanted to could break into my room and open my trunk with the wards I usually set. Anything more than that would generate unwanted interest. Getting into the secret compartment of my trunk was another matter. I removed the false bottom to my trunk and removed the protective charms that Snape had not detected. The Zonko products vanished and the real false bottom of my trunk appeared.

It was empty.


	10. Chapter 10: The Dark Passenger

**Chapter 10: The Dark Passenger**

I immediately reached my hand into my trunk to see if my eyes were deceiving me. My hand hit something solid and it was not the bottom of my trunk. My eyes _were_ deceiving me. Good. I slipped my hand over the object carefully. It felt soft, like cloth: my invisibility cloak.

Someone had wrapped my tools in the invisibility cloak. I quickly pulled out my things and took stock. My work clothes were there and so were the memories, the precious trophies of all my kills. The Elder Wand and the ritual knife were missing. But why take those and leave the memories and cloak?

They were sending me some kind of message. But what? Why kill my friends and go to the trouble of making it look like I was guilty, but then leave the most damning evidence for me to dispose of? If they could get past my defenses they could have set me up for Snape to catch. This was not an attempt to frame me. Nor did this seem to be a warning, either.

Then I noticed something else out of place in my room. There was a familiar piece of parchment open on my desk. It was the headmaster's map of the castle. I spoke the command to activate the map and knew immediately what message was being sent: Follow me.

I looked over the map and saw every student and every teacher in the school. One name stood out from all the rest. It was Barty Crouch Jr.

He must have been using _polyjuice_ potion to transform into my form in order to get around the castle. That explained what Ginny Weasley saw. It would also have given him an opportunity to sneak into the Gryffindor common rooms and then, when left alone, deactivate my wards. Perhaps he had learned my secret from Alastor Moody before killing him, although that would have meant that Dead Daddy Dumbledore had trusted the former auror with my secret and not told me about it, which was a disturbing thought.

I picked up the map and immediately felt a thrill of magic. Barty began moving almost immediately. He had spelled the map to alert him when it was touched. Cunning. He was heading straight for the seventh floor and the Room of Requirement. That must be where he wanted to have our little _tête-à-tête_.

Best if I arrived there before he did. I pulled out the galleon I had made into a portkey that would take me to the seventh floor hallway. I regretted not having linked the portkey directly to the room this time. It was a bit of caution, moving the end point to a slightly different location in the event that another wizard stumbled onto the portkey and traced the magic, but now time was of the essence. I gave the mental command and I was tugged through the castle to the empty hallway.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" came Severus Snape's mocking question. Snape had just stepped out of the Room of Requirement, one of two rooms in the castle not included on the map. I heard the sound of a toilet flushing from within.

I didn't have time for this. There was a killer loose in the castle and it wasn't me.

"Not really. I was just on my way back to the dorms when I suddenly needed a bathroom. I remembered the one up here and it was closer, so here I am. Now, if you don't mind…" I said, trying to get past the dark-robed potions teacher.

"I do mind, Potter," Snape said, his eyes boring into me. "Now tell me, what are you really doing up here before I—make—you tell me."

I'm going to kill and then cut up a dark wizard who has been impersonating me. "I told you, Professor, I just want to use the lavatory before I go back to my—"

"You're LYING!" Snape cut me off and then immediately reached for his wand and pointed it at me. "_LEGILIMENS_!" he cried.

His attempt at intruding into my mind was, admittedly, quite good. However, he was not quite in the same class as Albus, and Albus had trained me in Occlumency using the Elder Wand for me to practice against. In other circumstances, I probably would have conjured up an image of me peeing all over the floor and convinced him that was really all I was thinking of. But I didn't have time to create such a deception. Instead, I just shoved him out of my mind with as much force as I could. Which was a lot.

Snape staggered backwards from the mental backlash. Shock was evident on his face, and the Head of Slytherin House gasped, "P-Potter!"

With a thought and gesture I disarmed him. "Sorry, Professor," I said as I raised my wand. "_Obliviate_!" I really was sorry. I would have liked for him to be aware that I had a strong mind, a mind stronger than his. But, unfortunately, better for me if he forgot this. And forgot about the convenient "lavatory" on the seventh floor.

Now I only had moments before Crouch would reach the floor. I swished my wand and put a _confundus_ charm on Snape that would cause him to go back to his laboratory to find some ingredients. He would come to his senses and wonder what it was he was trying to make. That would handle this encounter for me.

That settled, I would need to prepare the Room of Requirement for a surprise. But if Crouch arrived and found the room already in use, he would be alerted and it would be messy trying to get him on my table. I needed a room that would trick my quarry into thinking he had summoned the door when he walked by it. The door to the Room of Requirement appeared in the wall.

I walked through and found myself in total darkness. A false rock wall appeared back over the entrance, waiting for the next person to come and need something. Carefully, I slid back into the blackness and waited. The door opened and Barty Crouch Jr. stepped into the room.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" I said quietly.

* * *

It was not a very satisfying kill. I listened to the deranged ranting of the madman for as long as I could stand. All he had to say was Dark Lord this and Dark Lord that. He went on about how unfair it was that the Dark Lord had chosen me, had marked me as his equal when all I had done was destroy him. He wanted nothing more than to kill me to show that he was the one who deserved Voldemort's attention.

When it finally came time to take my trophy I thought I would get some satisfaction. There were a number of murders from before his escape. I especially found his torture and murders of Alastor Moody and Barty Crouch Sr. worthy of my collection. But the deaths I most wanted to find in his mind were not there. He had no memory of taking my shape and killing Hermione or Ron, no matter how hard I pressed his mind to find it. Instead there were some odd memories of speaking with me, and strangely in a place I was familiar with. Instead of refreshed and fulfilled, I felt cheated.

I stabbed the dark wizard straight through the heart, but did not find the customary joy that came with puncturing the flesh of a victim. There was no answering glee from my Dark Passenger. It was still there, but seemed almost inert.

I had found my ritual knife on Crouch, but there was still no sign of the Elder Wand. The only memory he had of the wand was obviously false. In his mind he had remembered that I had personally handed him the knife to him as if he were my servant.

It was impossible.

I prepared him for disposal as I had each victim since the Ministry's discovery of the spiders in the Dark Forest. It still took me some time to cut up each piece so as to be unrecognizable, but my new method of disposal did not need such small parts. The cutting was mostly precautionary.

Finished, I checked the school grounds to see if there was anyone on my path. As always, I checked the headmaster's map to ensure there was nobody in the corridors. What I saw, though, gave me quite a shock. On the map I saw two names together. One was Cho Chang. The other was Peter Pettigrew.

I watched the map intently. Peter and Cho moved through the castle corridors with purpose. They were moving away from Ravenclaw and towards the main castle, then down. I was hoping they were not going where I thought they were going. When they reached the second floor and suddenly disappeared off the map my worst fears were confirmed. They had entered the Chamber of Secrets.

I took my invisibility cloak and flung it over my head. Whatever was about to happen, I had little time. Once again, I wished Albus were alive. I might even settle for Ron or Hermione. If Peter had gone into the chamber I knew he would not be all I would find there.

* * *

I approached the girl's bathroom on the second floor cautiously. According to the map nobody was there, but I would not trust that the castle could not be fooled. I heard a voice calling out, asking who was there.

It was the translucent form of Moaning Myrtle, floating around the bathroom where she died, still in her ghostly school uniform. Perhaps the ghost could be useful. I removed the cloak. Nobody ever really used this floor anymore, so there was no risk of anyone else finding me here.

"Hello, Myrtle," I said politely. The ghost responded well to kind words and any sort of attention from the living. Sometimes she responded a little too well.

"Oh, Harry, it's you!" Myrtle looked happy, but then looked a little confused. "But, Harry, I thought you had already gone down…. there again. I saw you just a while ago." Myrtle turned and looked somewhat peeved at him. "You didn't even say anything to me, you just hissed in that strange language again."

So, perhaps it was Pettigrew who was impersonating and murdering my friends. "Um, Myrtle, sorry if I was rude earlier. Did you see if there was a girl with me when I went down?

"Don't be silly, Harry. You know you were alone." Myrtle paused and then floated over to whisper to me conspiratorially. "But two others went down together. Can you guess who it was?" She giggled mischievously. "It was Cho Chang with an old balding guy who looked very much like an older Peter Pettigrew!"

"Thanks, Myrtle. You're the best. Just remember to keep this our little secret. Otherwise they'll lock up your bathroom and I won't be able to come visit you again." I gave her a wink and she giggled again.

I started going down into the Chamber of Secrets thanking my lucky stars Myrtle was not my girlfriend. After a short distance I came to the entrance gate for the chamber with the magical snake design that would only open for a parselmouth. The gate was already open. I took my invisibility cloak and left it at the gate.

When I entered the cavern of the chamber's most inner chamber, things were mostly as I would have expected them to be, but with a surprise. Bound up on the ground near the underground pool of water leading into the pipes of the castle was Cho Chang. Her eyes were closed, apparently knocked unconscious. Peter Pettigrew was in the room, standing a fair distance away from Cho. This was pretty much what I had expected. What I had not thought I would find here, was the other person in the room.

"Ah, Crouch. About time you returned," came a cold voice. It was a voice that was intimately familiar. "I will be needing the knife for this—"

The voice broke off as the speaker turned to regard me. The speaker was me. He had my bright green eyes and sandy brown hair. The young man's body was that of a fourteen year old who was just coming into his physical body, but filling out from physical activity. In every way he looked like me except that he had no scar and where my pupils were a natural black, his were slatted and blood red. Oh, and he didn't wear glasses.

"Well, Harry. This is a surprise," he said with the slightest touch of warmth.

I knew the voice. I had heard it many times. It was the voice in my mind that warned me of danger when I was stalking a wizard. It was the voice that alerted me to the darkness in others. It was the inner voice urging me to kill and rejoicing with each death. It was the voice I heard as it said the spells that ripped the blood and flesh from my parents. This was my Dark Passenger. This was—

"Voldemort."

"Yes, Harry," my double affirmed his identity. "I had not expected to meet you so soon after my return. I wanted to plan our reunion a bit more carefully. But no matter. You are here now and there is so much more for us to do."

I toyed with the idea of calling him by his birth name, Tom Riddle, but I knew the name would ring hollow in my own mind. Albus had killed Tom when he destroyed the soul fragments in the horcruxes. All that was left of that man was Voldemort.

"Us?" I asked. "You killed my parents. Everything Professor Dumbledore taught me goes against what you stand for. Unless you plan on helping me pass my N.E.W.T.s, I don't think there is much for 'us' to do together."

Volde-me raised his head in mocking laughter. "Dumbledore? Do you really believe Dumbledore is the one who you are closest to?" I glared at my double, my hand going to grip the knife in my hand. I seethed at the insinuation that I was not loyal to Albus. Pettigrew took a step forward, his hand moving to draw his wand. Voldemort's head turned to snap at him. "Be still, Wormtail!" Then he turned back to me. "I know you, Harry, I know you as well as I know myself.

"Who was there with you at every kill? Who felt your enjoyment as the knife slid through the hearts of all those who betrayed us? Could Albus feel as we do? I think not." Voldemort continued. "What did Albus ever give you? Your 'code?' It holds you back. You want to kill, but you must watch and wait. He tells you that you must 'be sure' before you kill." Voldemort let his words sink in. "Join me, Harry. Join me and together we will do extraordinary things. I will gather power to us from the outside while you silently kill from within! As much as our hearts desire will be ours!"

On some levels that argument made sense. My Dark Passenger had been there with me, even supported me, at times that nobody else could. Not even Albus would share those moments with me. And it was frustrating to restrain myself from those like Snape who were just asking for it.

"Why offer to help me, then? Why not kill me?" I asked.

Voldemort looked at me with my own eyes, the red narrowed to slits I could barely see. "Ah, Harry. Killing you would be the same as killing myself. There is so much of me inside of you."

Of course. He meant that quite literally. I was what remained of his immortality. So long as I lived, so would he. Clever. I also realized why Voldemort had returned. Each time someone killed a small portion of their soul broke off, not as much as when using the killing curse, but some. In my case, the pieces that were breaking off were what was left of Voldemort's soul still inside me. When my Dark Passenger went silent Voldemort was free, though there was still some of him left in me and as long as that remained he could not fully die.

"And I owe you so much, Harry." Voldemort gestured to his new body. "This body was your unwilling gift to me, but I do have gratitude to you for it. And we shared so much. You punished those who swore to serve me, yet abandoned me at the first chance they got. We shared that together."

The blood that Barty took when he was disguised as Moody. That was what restored Voldemort to physical form. This also meant that the protections that I enjoyed from the killing curse would extend to him as well.

"Now is the time for you to choose, Harry. You can join me as my equal. Harry Potter shall be more than any Death Eater. You will be my partner. A silent Dark Lord beside me. All you must do is take our knife," Voldemort gestured over towards Cho Chang, "and kill the witch. She is undoubtedly unfit for the Code, I know. But it will prove your choice. There will be no going back after this. Only glory!"

I walked over to Cho's bound form. I could feel desire in my heart as I looked on at her tied there, weak and vulnerable. Killing her would make me a true monster.

"Does it have to be her? Perhaps another?" I asked.

"True, it is a pity to kill a pure blooded witch," Voldemort sighed. His face was vicious when he spoke again. "But she has too much hold on you. It is because you want it not to be her that it must be her. Then you will be tied to me and I to you forever."

I pulled the knife out. Voldemort and Pettigrew drew closer. I raised the knife high in the air. They both approached to witness the event.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

A green jet of light burst from my free hand. A moment later, Peter Pettigrew fell rigidly to the ground, dead. Voldemort turned to look at me quizzically.

"I owed him for my parents," I said simply.

Then Cho rolled over and screamed out, "_STUPEFY_!" Voldemort had not noticed I had slipped her my wand and silently cast the _enervate_ counter-curse to awaken her.

"_STUPEFY_!"

"_STUPEFY_!"

Two more red beams of light shot out towards Voldemort from the opposite direction. My double screamed in frustration. The shield he instantly erected held the curses at bay, but he staggered sideways from the impact. I took the opportunity to move, charging towards Volde-me. He swirled his wand, creating a whirling wind. That was when my invisibility cloak flew off of Ron and Hermione's heads.

Voldemort stared at them. He was certain he had killed them.

That was when I stabbed him with the ritual knife. I was going to make certain to kill him, too.

His eyes went wide with shock as I grabbed the Elder wand from his hand. He tried to cast a spell, but the magic wouldn't come. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "I gave you back the rest of your soul when I killed Pettigrew." Then I watched as all the life drained out of his copy of my eyes.

I had always wondered how I would feel killing myself. I must say that I quite enjoyed it.

* * *

Unfortunately, a group of Hogwarts professors entered the Chamber of Secrets shortly after the death of my former dark passenger. I didn't have time to erase anyone's memories or cover up what had happened. It was going to be a difficult task to smuggle the basilisk I had been using to dispose of my kills out of the chamber.

When Severus Snape entered the chamber and leveled his wand at me he was instantly rebuffed by Cho Chang. She made it clear that she had been abducted by Pettigrew and that the killer was the one with red pupils lying dead now on the chamber floor. With three witnesses, even including the victims I had been accused of murdering in the first place, Snape was left fuming and my name was as spotless as ever.

Explaining the resuscitation of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley was a far more complicated matter. Simply telling the truth that I possessed the three Deathly Hallows and that I had used the resurrection stone to revive my friends was not an option. I had not even told that to my friends. When I brought them back to life and told them someone had been impersonating me, I made up a story. I told them it was their love for each other that protected them from the killing curse. It was the worst explanation I had ever come up with. Funny how well it it worked.

Convincing the adults of this matter was not as easy, only half of the wizarding world bought that story. Fortunately, the testimony of a portrait of Albus Dumbledore carried a lot of weight. Of course, it helped that since everyone knew there was no magic that could bring the dead to life, they had little suspicion that I actually had such magic in my possession. Not even Voldemort had known I had such power, nor did he understand the power of friendship. In fact, I had not realized it until my Dark Passenger had gone silent and then had taken my friends from me.

It would take some time for the fame of being the one to truly and finally kill the Dark Lord to fade away, but it helped that I had my friends to share the spotlight with. It was also convenient that they made for a good excuse for not notifying the teachers. What would any boy do when his girlfriend is kidnapped? What would two friends do if their friend was running off to face something horrible?

At the end of the year, all tests behind me, Professor McGonagall came to see me before I was ready to take the train to join my godfather. With Peter Pettigrew, now shown to have been alive, Sirius was cleared of all crimes and I would once again not need to stay with the Dursleys.

"So, Mr. Potter. Now that you have taken your O.W.L.'s, what do you think you want to do?"

I gave her my best smile, thinking of dark wizards still out there, like Lucius Malfoy. "I think I'll become an auror." And I'll keep finding and killing dark wizards. Not because I need to. But because I want to.

**The End**

**Author's Note: I would greatly appreciate reviews. If you have read this far please take a minute to leave a comment. Thanks and hope you enjoyed the story.  
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